


Falling Together

by Raven_Queen



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Arguing, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Bat Brothers, Bat Family, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Child Abuse, Cliche, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne is an Idiot, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, High School, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Mutual Pining, Older Damian Wayne, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Damian Wayne, POV Outsider, Physical Abuse, Protective Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:14:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 150,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Queen/pseuds/Raven_Queen
Summary: When Damian Wayne started sophomore year, he expected it to be as dull and pointless as freshmen year. Being trapped in a building full of idiots for seven hours learning things he already knew was about the least productive thing he could think of doing, yet here he was. Sitting here. Half-listening. Trying not to murder anyone.The year takes a turn for the interesting when Tessa Morgan beats him on a test and Damian might have possibly threatened her, starting a competition between the two of them that leads them both down a path they would never have suspected.A story of first love mixed in with the Wayne name, secret identities, and superhero antics. What could go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, I'm Samantha Morrigan or Raven_Queen, whichever you prefer. This is going to be a longer fic that I actually have no idea where it's going to end because I'm still writing it, but I've fallen in love with this story so far and I really want to share so I'm posting. I have 15 chapters as of right now, and with the way it's going right now it's probably going to be many more. So if you want a fluffy romance thing that turns into an actual plot eventually you've come to the right story :)

Gotham Academy was one of the most prestigious high schools in the area, if not the most prestigious. It was a tough school to get into, one that was selective about their students and who they let into their esteemed student body. Only the smartest of the smart got in – or the richest of the rich.  


Damian Wayne tried not to scowl as he walked onto campus for the start of sophomore year. Around him, people stared and whispered, some even bold enough to call out his name in greeting. He ignored all of it. He had no patience when it came to these people, the children of the socialites of Gotham. They were all rich kids who bought their way into a good education and would do nothing with it. His scowl deepened.  


He barely had the patience to deal with them when he was at galas when they were all dressed up in finery instead of the ridiculous uniforms that the school made them wear. Being stuck in a building with them for seven hours wasn’t something he ever looked forward to. He’d learned to hate it last year. This year would be no different.  


Between the bumbling idiots who had no idea what the teachers were saying, the people who only wanted to be his friend because they thought it’d get them something, and the countless girls and boys that flirted with him due to some misconception that lead them to believe he wanted a partner, high school was about the last place he wanted to be.  


If it was his choice, he wouldn’t be here at all. He already knew more than anyone his age – or anyone quite a few years older than him. He could easily pass all these classes without so much as sweating. The whole thing was ridiculous. If it wasn’t for Father’s insistence that he attend he wouldn’t be here at all.  


Personally, he thought his time would be much better spent learning things he didn’t already know and perfecting his fighting, but Father disagreed. Apparently, this was good for him. Something about socializing with people his age and learning how to interact with people in a normal way. The only reason he was actually here was that he could see the merits in keeping up the normal guise of Damian Wayne so that no one would find out that he was Robin.  


Not that Damian was normal. Even if he wasn’t Robin, he was nowhere near normal. He was the son of Bruce Wayne and heir to all that came with it. He had been trained since birth by the League of Assassins. Hell, he had died and come back to life. None of that screamed normal.  


Yet here he was. Walking to class. Doing something so mundane that it was beneath him. Hating himself for it.  


The bell rang – a sound he had come to hate last year and planned to continue hating for the next three – and he picked up his books and headed for his first class of the day. English. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be entirely idiotic.  


He pushed the door open, finding that the class was already almost full. All eyes spun to him. Some people gaped, while others called out his name telling him to come and sit with them. He ignored them.  


Without meeting a single pair of eyes he walked over and slid into a seat next to the windows, pulled out a notebook and pencil, and absentmindedly started to draw.  


He heard some people mutter about how rude he was being while others whispered excitedly about him. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d seen nearly two-thirds of these people before and had talked to a little less than half. They should be over this by now. It made no sense for them to be shocked he was here or surprised that he doesn’t talk to any of them.  


Though apparently, that wasn’t going to stop the girl – Hallie Wong, he was pretty sure – from sauntering up to him with a vapid smile on her face.  


He knew all too well where this was going. Sighing he closed his notebook and leveled her with a flat, bored stare. She stopped in her tracks, the smile faltering. Just when she pushed it back onto her face the bell rang and the teacher walked in, saying, “Alright everyone, sit down.”  


Hallie frowned but walked back over to her seat. Damian didn’t spare her another look, just opened his notebook and continued to aimlessly doodle as the teacher took roll.  


Then the teacher started to lecture on some Shakespearean play that he’d read when he was eight, so he tuned him out fully and focused on the picture that was slowly forming on the page in front of him.  


It was only when he heard someone all but shouting at another kid that he looked up, his eyes alighting on a brown haired girl with sharp gray eyes and a nose dusted with freckles – a nose that was scrunched up in disgust as she argued with a boy who was looking down his nose at her.  


As soon as he understood what they were arguing about – somehow this boy was trying to convince the class that Macbeth was actually _justified_ in killing Duncan – he immediately agreed with the girl. The mere notion that Macbeth was right about killing Duncan made his skin itch.  


He nearly opened his mouth to say just that, but before he could the girl nearly spat, “So you think that it’s completely justified for Macbeth to kill Duncan, a good and just and kind King who he had sworn to protect, all because some witches told him that he would one day be King even though they obviously had ulterior motives and there is nothing pointing to the fact that they’re actually prophetic? That’s really your argument? You could have at least thought of something better than that.”  


The boy – Liam Henley, the son of some half-rate lawyer – just stared at the girl in silence for a good thirty seconds. So did the class. And by the way the girl’s face was slowly turning red, she was becoming more and more aware of that fact.  


Damian frowned. He had no idea who the girl was, he’d actually never seen her in his life, but she shouldn’t be embarrassed. She was right. If this kid was actually trying to convince them that Macbeth was justified there were better arguments, even if the whole idea was idiotic.  


Liam straightened up in his desk, as if suddenly able to process her words in his stupid brain. His hands balled into fists as he spat, “What do you know? You’re just some dumb rich girl who has probably never read a book in her life.”  


Damian watched as the girl’s face turned red – whether in anger or in mortification he couldn’t tell – as she glared at him and struggled to find something to say. Damian waited, expecting a spectacular response because she had such a look of hatred in her eyes that told him that she cared about this book and knew as well as he did that this kid was wrong. From the previous comment she’d snapped, he knew she could put this kid in his place if she wanted, but all the girl did was drop her head and glare angrily at her desk.  


Liam smirked victoriously and something in Damian’s stomach twisted at the sight, both that smirk and the defeated slump on the girl’s shoulders, and before he knew what he was doing he said, “She’s right.”  


For the third time that day, every head snapped to him. He didn’t look at any of them. He just leveled his gaze at Liam, who looked so very pleased with himself, and said, “There’s no way that you can spin the story to justify Macbeth killing Duncan. It was a cold-blooded murder. There was no motive behind it other than ambition and greed, which are nowhere near reasons and are definitely not excuses. And even if there was a reason, murder is murder. It’s inexcusable, no matter what.”  


When the boy just gaped at him, no doubt having no idea what to do when faced with someone like him, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to find something to back up what he had said. Damian tried not to sneer in the boy’s face. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and said, “Unless, of course, you’re trying to convince us that it’s okay to murder someone as long as it benefits us.”  


The boy’s mouth snapped shut.  


Before anything else could happen, the bell rang. The teacher, who had kept quiet during the entire incident, didn’t say a word as they filed out, voices clamoring over each other as they talked about what had just happened. He simply stayed seated in his chair, levelly looking at the boy in front of him.  


The boy all but ran out of the class. Damian tried not to feel too satisfied at the sight.  


As he stood up and walked out of the room his eyes slid over to the girl. And held. Gray and green met, and for whatever odd reason Damian’s stomach did a little flip. Damian tried not to frown. Was he hungry already? He’d eaten breakfast, hadn’t he?  


The girl was still looking at him, eyes wary. Calculating. The same look he gave people when he was Robin while he assessed whether they were a threat or not. Keeping his face blank Damian sent her a curt nod and walked out of the room.  


No doubt the entire school was going to be talking about what had happened. The things he did tended to spread faster than even he could follow. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to speak up.  


The girl’s face flashed in his head when she’d looked defeated, then Liam’s victorious sneer. His hands balled into fists. No, he was happy he’d spoken up. The little prick needed to be told off, and he was all too happy to be the one to do it, even if it was going to start a whole gossip ring about him within the first hour of school starting.  


Shaking his head Damian headed for his next class.

\----------------------

Tessa Morgan was mortified. She’d been at school for a grand total of forty-three minutes before she started to argue with a classmate. All she had wanted to do was lie low throughout sophomore year, just like she had last year, but what was the first thing that she did? Argue with a classmate. Loudly. In front of everyone.  


And to make everything worse, Damian Wayne, _the_ Damian Wayne, had practically defended her. That wasn’t lying low. That was as good as standing on a table and singing the national anthem as loud as she could. That was screaming at the world _hey, look at me_. No doubt the entire school would be talking about that by lunch.  


If she was lucky – which she never was – the tale would be spun with only Damian Wayne talking. It would be Damian Wayne who argued with the person. Damian Wayne who had told the person they were wrong and got him so angry that his face turned red. If she was lucky the name Tessa Morgan wouldn’t come up at all.  


Too bad her luck tended to suck.  


Sighing Tessa adjusted her bag on her shoulder, resigning herself to an awful first day. The best she could do at this point was keep her head down and focus in all her other classes. You know, do what she had said she would do. Sit in class. Take notes. Learn. Get good grades. Stay low. It really shouldn’t be that hard.  


It had just been that damn person. She didn’t understand how anyone could think that Macbeth was _justified_. In what world was someone justified in killing another person just because it would help them? Damian had hit the nail on the head when he’d shot that at the kid.  


Tessa frowned. Why _had_ he defended her? It’s not like he knew her. Maybe he thought the boy’s idea was as ridiculous as she did. Or maybe he just liked arguing with people. Honestly, she had no idea how Damian Wayne’s brain worked, and she probably never would.  


Like, _why_ had he looked at her as they were leaving? And what had that look meant? And the nod? Was it some show of solidarity? Or was he just trying to be polite because she had been staring at him?  


She hadn’t meant to. It was just that she’d been so confused that she’d looked at him, and once she looked at him she couldn’t stop because Jesus that boy was beautiful. Who even looked like that? Between the messy black hair, clear green eyes, a jawline that could actually be carved from stone, and skin that looked perpetually sun-kissed, he had enough good looks that it could be spread between three people and they’d all still be the most beautiful people in the room.  


Tessa shook her head. Enough. Enough thoughts about Damian Wayne. She had no need to get involved with him or all the attention he brought. In fact, she’d be happy to stay very far away from him.  


That’s what she’d do. Stay far, far away from Damian Wayne and out of trouble for the rest of the day. She’d lie low and focus and work hard. Yeah. She could do that.  


Squaring her shoulders Tessa walked into her next class–  


And came face to face with Damian Fucking Wayne.  


The world hated her. It was the only explanation. The world just hated her.  


Their eyes met, and fuck he was still gorgeous. Why couldn’t he be ugly? That’d be so much easier. Then she wouldn’t want to stare at his face all day. At his eyes. She could stare at those green eyes for hours.  


She tore her eyes away and walked over to the opposite side of the room from him and took a seat, very purposefully keeping her eyes facing forward throughout the entire class.  


Apparently, he didn’t share the same feeling.  


She could see him, out of the corner of her eye, looking at her every once in a while. So much so that she could barely focus. She wasn’t even sure what the teacher was talking about – something about ancient China, maybe – and was instead watching him out of the corner of her eye and counting every single time he looked at her. When the bell rang fifty-odd minutes later, she had a grand total of seven times. He’d looked at her seven different times.  


She wanted to punch something. Why? Why did she have to argue with someone? Why did she have to get the attention of Damian Wayne?  


That was literally the opposite of what she needed. She didn’t need attention. All she need was to ace her classes and be top of her grade so that she could get a scholarship that would let her get the hell away from Gotham. That’s all she wanted. She didn’t need Damian Wayne looking at her and distracting her. No sir, she didn’t need any of that.  


And honestly, she could have dealt with two classes with him. History and English were her favorite subjects, her best subjects, so she could deal with being a little distracted in them. She could probably never show up to them and still ace it. Two classes were fine. But it wasn’t two classes. It was four. Four fucking classes.  


In most of her six classes she’d barely seen the same face twice, but she just happened to have him in four of them. And he kept _looking at her_ throughout all of them.  


Every single time she felt herself stiffen and lose focus. It was like when he looked at her he suddenly became a magnet and every last shred of her attention slid over to him and she _hated_ it. Like goddamn, she should be better than this. She shouldn’t let a damn boy distract her this much, and yet here she was, first day of school, barely able to hear anything her teachers were saying because Damian Fucking Wayne kept glancing at her.  


It got less and less as the day went on, but she still saw him do it. Again and again. Messing with her focus. Making her watch him instead of listening to the lecture. Tessa sighed, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder as she walked home. She was going to have to get a handle on this.  


Because school? She had to do well. She had to stay on top of her work and ace her classes and be the best in them. It was her ticket to college, her ticket out, and not even Damian Wayne was going to mess that up for her. No matter how perfect his stupid face was.  


Slinging her backpack around to the front she dug in the smallest pocket until her hand latched onto her keys. She was going to make herself some tea, and put on her pajama’s, and read a damn book for an hour until she felt normal. Yeah, that’s exactly what she needed. Tea and a good book. Inserting the right key into the door she listened to the click of the lock turning and pushed the door open.  


She froze, hand on the door.  


Before her stood her dad, a half-empty bottle of what looked like whiskey in his hand, leaning heavily against the wall even as his eyes blazed at her. He wasn’t even supposed to be home yet. He was supposed to be at work. Her heart picked up, slamming against her ribcage as she watched him.  


“Tessie,” he slurred. With one finger he motioned her to come forward. She did, leaving the door open behind her. Just in case.  


As soon as she was within his reach, he swung. She turned in time for his fist to slam into her backpack instead of her chest. Her heart beating harder she turned to run, but before she could a hand latched onto her backpack and pulled her backwards, throwing her to the floor.  


She landed hard, knees barking in pain. That was going to bruise.  


“How was your day at school, Tessie?” Dad asked, clumsily kicking at her.  


She rolled, barely missing the boot aimed at her ribs, and got to her feet. She had to move. Had to get out of the house or get to her room. But he was standing in the way of the door, and the stairs were directly to his left, so either way, she’d have to go through him.  


She cursed, heard pounding. She didn’t need this. She’d already had a crap day, she didn’t need her dad–  


He swung, the glass whiskey bottle arching towards her, and she moved fast enough that it hit her arm instead of her head.  


Glass shattered, and biting, burning pain flared in her arm. She could feel the glass in it, feel the whiskey making the cuts burn. Tears sprang to her eyes. No matter how many times it happened, she would never get used to that pain.  


Her dad laughed, the broken whiskey bottle still in his hands. A much dangerous weapon now. Heart pounding she ran towards him, ducking the bottle aimed at her and reaching the stairs.  


Something slammed into her back and she crumpled forward, gasping. Another bruise. Didn’t matter. She had to get to her room.  


She ran, up the stairs and into her room, her dad’s drunken laughter her chasing her up the stairs. She slammed the door and locked it, heart thundering, her entire body shaking as she slid to the floor.  


For five minutes she sat there, listening and praying that her dad wouldn’t come up the stairs. That in his drunken state he’d forget about her now that she was no longer in his sight. That she was safe for the rest of the night.  


When she heard nothing but the dull drone of the TV playing downstairs, she finally let out a shaking breath.  


Fuck. Fuck this. Fuck today. Fuck life. She didn’t need that. She didn’t need anything. All she had wanted to do today was go unnoticed, and she couldn’t do that at school or at home.  


A tear streaked down her face. She wiped it away, a bitter laugh echoing from her lips.  


A sting of pain went through her arm. She looked down to find her upper arm covered in blood and three separate pieces of glass sticking in her arm. Looks like she was going to be wearing long sleeves for the next week or two.  


Shrugging off her backpack she walked over to the bathroom, thanking whatever horrible being that was watching over her that she at least had that. Wetting a washcloth she cleaned up the blood surrounding the cuts. And then she pulled out her medical kit and grabbed the tweezers inside. As gently as she could she pulled out the pieces of glass.  


She hissed, and blood gushed, but it came out easily, and ten minutes later that had quite a bit of swearing in it she had her arm cleaned and bandaged. Quite honestly, it was good that the pieces of glass were big. Better than having to dig around in her arm for all the tiny pieces of glass. And luckily, none of them had been bad enough for stitches.  


Sighing Tessa pulled on a loose shirt and rinsed out the one stained with blood. She’d get the stains out tomorrow. Or later tonight. Right now though, she was going to lay on her bed and read a book and get away from all of this. Escape for a while.  


So that’s what she did. She grabbed a book, one in a different world with people so similar and so very different from herself, and fell into it. She read it until her eyes hurt and she forgot where and who she was, until she fell asleep with it on her chest and dreamed that she was somewhere else entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so that's the first chapter, I hope you liked it. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa beats Damian on a test, and he might not take it as well as one would hope, creating a rivalry between the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 2 cause I realized this looks like it's a one shot and I don't know how to fix it without posting another chapter, sooooooo

The second day of school was rough, partially because her arm was throbbing and she was worried it was going to start bleeding again, and partially because Damian Fucking Wayne was still looking at her.  


The only good thing was that the English story had actually been spun so that she wasn’t involved. Even the people in their class didn’t seem to remember that she’d started the argument, believing that it was Damian Wayne who had told the kid off. It worked for her. She didn’t need that attention. She didn’t need _any_ attention. And she wouldn’t have gotten any if it wasn’t for _him_ staring at her.  


By the fourth day, she was actually getting pissed. Like, ready-to-snap, I’m-going-to-break-his-arm, he’s-going-to-lose-those-eyes pissed. So when they got to the last class of the day, the chemistry class that they shared, she’d glared at him.  


She hadn’t meant to. Really. Usually, she didn’t even acknowledge that she knew he was looking at her, but she couldn’t take it anymore. So when she felt his eyes turn to her again, she looked him dead in the eye and glared.  


For one, brief, startling moment, he’d looked shocked. It’d blinked away in a second, replaced with cool indifference, but it’d been there. Or at least she thought it had. Honestly, she was half-convinced that she’d imagined the shock because Damian Wayne didn’t get shocked or flustered or anything else that normal human beings did.  


It really didn’t matter. After she’d glared at him he’d stopped looking at her, stopped everything with her, and she could finally just be at school without having to worry about staying under the radar.  


Even her dad was being better. Or not better, but he was working the late shift at the office more often than not which meant that she could be safely in her room by the time he got home and out of the house before he woke up.  


It’d been a month since school started, and she barely had any new bruises and definitely didn’t have any cuts or broken bones, everyone at school barely realized she existed, and Damian Wayne was no longer her problem. Really, everything was finally looking up for Tessa Morgan.  


Or at least it had been, until she found a glowering Damian Wayne standing by her locker at the end of school.  


She debated just walking away and going home. Just turning around and skip going to her locker. But her English book was in there, and it was Friday, and she really needed to read it over the weekend. Besides, the chances that he was standing in front of her locker because he wanted to talk to her was unlikely. Even if he hadn’t had glanced at her twice since she’d entered the hallway.  


Taking a deep breath Tessa squared her shoulders and walked towards her locker. As she got closer she mentally rehearsed asking him to move – _excuse me can I get to my locker?_ Or _excuse you you’re standing in front of my locker and I need to get into it._ She decided on the first one. Shorter. Fewer words to fumble over.  


But as she opened her mouth, he said, “What did you get on the history test?”  


Tessa stopped short, blinking at him in shock. She didn’t even process his question until he raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to answer his question. Shaking her head she said, “99.”  


It’d been the highest score in the class. Usually, that spot was reserved for Damian, who got 100 on _every_ test in _every_ class they shared, but for the first time since they’d started testing she’d beat him. She’d always been close, a point or two behind or even tying him, and had silently reserved herself to that fate for the entire school year. Except today she’d gotten her test back with the little note _best scorei_ written on top. And she couldn’t help but beam down at her test.  


It’d been the hardest test of the year too. Nearly half the class got between 60 and 70, and only a handful had actually gotten 80’s and 90’s. And then here she was, with a 99, getting the best score in the class. She’d be lying if she’d said that she wasn’t really proud of herself for the accomplishment.  
In front of her, Damian frowned. Tessa couldn’t help but scrunch her eyebrows together. Was he really upset because she’d beaten him? It was one test. He couldn’t seriously be mad about it.  


Pushing off from the lockers he looked down at her and said, “Don’t get used to beating me. It’s unlikely that it will happen again.”  


And then he was walking away, more or less swaggering down the hall after that fucking _warning_ he’d just given her.  


Anger surged through her veins, and before she could stop herself she shouted after him, “Excuse me?”  


He stopped, half turning to face her, green eyes fixing on her. She was suddenly very glad that there was no one else in this hallway as another surge of anger swarmed through her and she had the distinct urge to punch Damian Wayne in his perfect face.  


“All I’m saying is that you most likely will not beat me again,” Damian said, still not even fully facing her. Like she wasn’t even worth his whole attention.  


“Why?” Tessa asked, crossing her arms. “Because you think you’re smarter than me? Because you’re Damian Wayne?” She took a step closer to him, not caring that she was having a shouting match in an empty hallway with Damian Fucking Wayne. “You’re not smarter than me, and your name doesn’t scare me, so if you were counting on either of those things to keep you at the top of the class you might want to rethink your strategy.”  


Damian turned to face her fully, crossing his arms and spreading his feet. “I am smarter than you.”  


Tessa snorted. “Our test scores say differently.”  


“Test scores don’t show intelligence fairly,” Damian said, his lips curling  


“Then why do you care so much?” Tessa asked, putting a purely innocent look on her face.  


Damian glared, and then he turned and walked away, calling over his shoulder, “You won’t beat me again.”  


She shouted right back, “Yes, I will.”  


He didn’t respond. All he did was keep walking.  


It was only when he disappeared from sight that she walked over to her locker and spun the dial a little harder than she normally did. She grabbed her stuff, shoved it into her backpack, and then slammed her locker shut. The metallic bang echoed through the empty hallway.  


Huffing to try and relieve some of the anger still pulsing through her veins, Tessa started to walk home, hoping the walk would clear her head. It didn’t. Actually, the longer she walked, the more and more angry that she got.  


Who the hell did he think he _was_? Sure, he was smart and rich and beautiful, but so what? That didn’t give him a free pass to be an asshole. Besides, it was one test score. One. He really shouldn’t be so damn upset about it.  


It wasn’t like she was consistently beating him, and even then that didn’t mean he could come up to her and basically call her an idiot and tell her that she had no chance at beating him. She was smart. She _knew_ she was smart. Smarter than almost everyone in the school.  


And fine – maybe she wasn’t smarter than him. She could be okay with that. Through whatever lessons Bruce Wayne had been giving his kid, the boy was some kind of genius – but so was she. Maybe not on the same level, but pretty damn close. Close enough to make him sweat a bit and to beat him every once in a while.  


If that pissed him off, it was his problem. She wasn’t going to stop doing her best just to nurse his fragile ego. No way. Damian Wayne could either suck it up or go whine in some corner. She didn’t really care.  


Pushing open the door to her house Tessa walked inside and headed up to her room, grabbing the nearest textbook and starting to read. He wanted to play? He wanted to test her? He wanted to say that she couldn’t beat him? Fine. She’d prove him wrong. Just like she’d proved everyone else wrong when they told her she wasn’t capable of doing something.  


Damian Wayne had no fucking clue what he had just started. 

 -------------- 

Damian Wayne threw his backpack on his bed and then promptly followed it, groaning into his pillow as he landed face down on top of it.  


Why? Why had he needed to talk to her? What stupid part of his brain had thought that _that_ had been a good idea?  


It was just a stupid test score. Sure, he didn’t like coming in second and some buried part of him whispered that second meant losing, but that did constitute going up to the damn girl and telling her that she wouldn’t beat him again.  


He groaned into his pillow.  


Of all the things that had come out of his mouth, it had to have been that.  


It was just… something about that girl made him feel off. Tessa Morgan. With her sharp gray eyes that always seemed to be thinking and moving. He didn’t know why, but when it came to her, he had no damn clue what the hell he was doing. Half the time he didn’t even know that he was doing something until he’d done it.  


Like when he’d walked to her locker. And said all those things. And responded when she argued back. He hadn’t even heard what he’d said until after the words were already out of his mouth.  


Or like when he kept looking at her during class. He couldn’t help it honestly. Somehow, his eyes just kept going back to her. To the way the light reflected across her caramel colored hair. The way she bit her lip when she was concentrating really hard. The slight smile that would twist her lips when someone said something funny. And every time, he had an urge to draw her.  


It was infuriating. This girl who he hadn’t even known existed a month ago was suddenly taking up all his attention and making him feel unbalanced.  
And then today, she’d beaten him. At his best subject. By only a single point.  


Before her, no one had even come close to beating him. And then suddenly she was just behind him. And then she’d beaten him. She’d _beaten_ him. No one beat him.  


It was just a fluke. The only reason that she had beaten him was because he’d been up the entire night before on a stakeout that had turned into a firefight that they’d barely gotten out of unscathed. He’d been exhausted, and not particularly in the mood to take a test, so he’d made a few stupid mistakes. Apparently, that was all it took for her to beat him. A few stupid mistakes.  


Well, it wouldn’t happen again. No matter what Tessa claimed.

 ------------------ 

Two weeks had passed and she still hadn’t beaten him. They’d tied twice, and he’d beaten her four times, and honestly, she was about ready to punch him when he sent her a victorious smirk that would have been so damn hot if she wasn’t so thoroughly pissed at him.  


Really, a smirking Damian Wayne? At her? If she didn’t know how much of a pretentious asshole he was she would have felt herself go silly like every other idiotic girl in school.  


And she was about to have another one thrown at her, since here she was in chemistry sitting as the teacher was handing them back their tests. It’d been a periodic table test, something that she knew she’d ace even before it’d been set in front of her, and since Damian wasn’t an idiot they were going to tie. Again. And since he thought that was the same as winning, he’d send her that stupid little smirk that made her want to kick him in the ankle.  


But then she got her test back, and on the top there was the little not best score with a smiley face drawn next to it.  


A shit-eating grin slipped across her face and she looked at Damian, who was staring down at his test with utter shock and disgust. Her grin turned into a smirk as he looked up and their eyes met, and for the first time in two weeks it was her turn to send him a victorious smirk.  


His face turned into a snarl and the bell rang. He walked out of the room, shoving the test into his bag.  


She practically skipped out of the room, still holding her winning test in her hand.

 ----------------- 

Damian stared at his test. He couldn’t believe it. A 98. On the periodic table. He knew the periodic table. He’d learned it when he was six. He should have got a perfect score. Yet he was staring at the score on top, the 98 written in red.  


He’d mixed up two elements. He’d been so over confident and cocky that he knew everything that he’d mixed up two elements. It was unacceptable. He was better than this. Better than some common mistake that normal people made. He was above mistakes like this.  


He felt eyes on him. His chest tightened. No. No, she couldn’t have beaten him.  


Slowly he looked up and found Tessa Morgan smirking at him across from the room. She’d beaten him. He knew, in that smirk, that she’d gotten 100/100 on the test.  


His stomach flipped as they looked at each other, and his hand twitched. The urge to draw her like this, with a victorious tilt to her lips and light shining in gray eyes, was so strong that he balled his fist to keep from grabbing his pencil. He shouldn’t want to draw her. He shouldn’t feel confused or distracted by her except when it came to academics.  


The bell rang and he stood up, shoving his test into his bag and walking out of the room without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

 ----------------- 

A week later she beat him again, on an essay about Macbeth. She could practically see the fury rolling off him at that, but she was downright gleeful. She hadn’t stopped smiling the whole day, because English was her subject and she’d finally beaten him at it.  


The joy had held throughout the entire week, even with the three new bruises that he dad had so graciously given her as a reward. Normally she would have growled and let her anger at her consume her, but she was just so damn happy. She’d scored higher than him on an essay. On Macbeth. On the very thing that had started this whole weird whatever this was that they had.  


Then a month passed, and he’d beaten her on every single test, and she was getting so entirely sick of those stupid little smirks that when they’d taken their history test she’d studied her ass off so that she could finally beat him again.  


When they’d gotten the tests back a week later, she fucking beamed at her test.  


She’d gotten 101/100.  


From the look of confusion on Damian’s face as he looked down at his paper – no doubt a perfect score – and didn’t see the best score written on top, he had no idea what was happening.  


But he looked at her, shock and wonder on his face, and she’d turned her test towards him so he could see the extra point that she’d gotten.  


Rage and shock flicked across his face, and she didn’t even care. She’d beaten him not because he’d made a mistake, but because she was better than him. Because for once she’d actually just done better, and it made her victory that much sweeter.

 ------------------ 

When she’d beaten him on the essay, Damian had talked himself out of breaking into her locker to see what she’d written. It’d taken a lot of convincing, and he still had the urge for the rest of the week, but he didn’t do it. No matter how badly he wanted to see what she’d written.  


It had to be spectacular. He knew her grammar was perfect, just like his, and that her style of writing was different but still as good as his, so it truly came down to how they’d written about the prompt. He knew he’d done amazing. He knew what he’d written was right and perfect. But somehow, she’d seen something that he hadn’t and it was itching at the back of his mind to find out what it was.  


Just when he’d gotten over the urge to break in and look at her stuff, she’d beaten him again. She’d beaten his perfect score. He’d gotten 100/100, and she’d still somehow beaten him. And then she’d turned her paper and he saw that extra fucking point and he didn’t even think about it when he broke into her locker after school to see what the damn point was for.  


It was on the free response. She’d over analyzed and added an amazing point from some reading they’d done a week ago, and the teacher had given her an extra point for it.  


He’d seethed for the rest of the day, and even though he wouldn’t admit it he might have hit the criminals a little too hard that night on patrol.  


It seemed that Tessa Morgan could beat him. Of her own accord. Without him making a mistake. It grated at him, his Mother’s voice echoing in his head telling him that he couldn’t let this stand.  


He shook off her voice, and instead, Tessa’s popped up, her _yes, I will_ echoing through his head when he’d said she couldn’t beat him.  


It seemed he’d been wrong.  


It also seemed that he’d actually found someone at that godawful school that he could actually compete with.  


Damian smiled viciously and slammed his fist into a criminal’s jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated. Let me know what you liked and hated :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where a P.E. class goes wrong and Damian and Tessa realize they might not hate each other after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys here's the next chapter. I've decided to post new chapters on Saturday and Wednesday, and hopefully I'll be able to stick to that, but I'm starting my freshmen year of college in a little under a month (yay!) and I don't know how that's going to affect my schedule, so bear with me. I promise to try my best to stay with this schedule though :)
> 
> Hope you like this chapters, it's one of my favorite that I've written so far.
> 
> -Raven Queen

Tessa hated P.E. It was such a stupid, pointless class that had no function other than to let the jocks show off and everyone else to just grumble and grudgingly do whatever horrible activity that was this week’s sport.  


What was this week’s sport? Soccer.  


Which Tessa… was actually okay with.  


Up until the start of last year, she’d played soccer. Then her dad had forbidden her from going, and the beating she’d gotten when she’d snuck out to practice after he told her not to had been bad enough that she hadn’t even thought about trying to sneak out again.  


But hey, here she was. Standing on the school’s field, in the shitty uniform that everyone was forced to wear, a ball at her feet as she ran down the field.  


And damn did it feel good to have a ball at her feet again. It was so familiar and wonderful that she didn’t even see the person coming at her from her left until they’d already stolen the ball from.  


Huffing Tessa turned and glared at the person, only to find Damian Wayne’s sharp green eyes on her and a smirk slipped across his lips. Her stomach did a stupid little flip. She smothered it and chased after him with the express purpose of kicking him in the ankle.  


Only she didn’t get the chance. He was fast – faster than her by far – and had somehow woven his way between all the people who were only barely trying and the two or three people who were actually trying and shot the ball into the back of the net.  


For a solid minute she just stood there, staring. Because _of fucking course_ he was also good at soccer.  


As the people on his team surrounded him and patted him on the back, their eyes locked across the field. And there was that stupid little smirk that made her want to bash his teeth down his throat.  


She glared at him. Fine. He wanted to play? She’d give him someone to play against.  


She took up a position at the front, and the two boys that had gone to her school last year and had actually seen her play sent her a wide grin as she took up her ready position. She gave them a small smile and nodded her head. She’d play. And they were going to win. She was going to beat Damian, just like she’d beaten him on the history test yesterday.  


The teacher blew the whistle and she took off. One of the boys sent the ball curving through the air at her – Alex, she thought – and she caught it with her chest, dropped it down to her feet, took two touches forward until she entered the box, and then took her shot.  


It sailed into the top corner. The sound of the ball hitting the back of the net was the best sound she’d heard all day.  


As people surrounded her she found Damian’s eyes and raised an eyebrow. A taunt. He just smirked and took up his place in the middle again.  


So she took up her spot and they played.  


Fifteen minutes later she was sweating more than she ever had in the class, was slightly out of breath, and cursing Damian Wayne because he was actually good at this damn sport.  


Not better than her though. And the score of two to one showed it.  


And if the way he was glowering was any indication, he was hating it.  


She beamed at him, not even bothering to smirk. She couldn’t. It was just so refreshing to see Damian Wayne, who was good at absolutely everything, be losing in something he was good at. Sure, she’d beaten him on tests, but that wasn’t consistent. This was. They’d been playing for twenty minutes and he still couldn’t beat her.  


He might be faster than her – by a lot, a fact that bothered her – but she was better. She knew the game in and out, had played it her entire life, and when they went head to head she was the one who came out on top.  


This time, instead of taking his position in the middle, he stepped up to the line. And as soon as the ball hit his feet, he took off like a shot.  


She took three seconds to marvel at his speed because damn that boy was fast. Three seconds to let her mind spin and figure out where he was going, three seconds to look at his touch on the ball, three seconds to figure out how to beat him. And then she moved, charging at him right as he took one of his too-long touches.  


She rammed into him, shoulder to shoulder, pushing him off the ball and stealing it from him before sending it to David who was standing wide open in the middle of the field.  


And then she stopped, hands on her knees, because goddamn she forgot how much effort soccer took and how much sprinting like that took out of her. Like seriously, she hadn’t realized how in shape she used to be. Or maybe it was how out of shape she’d gotten. Tessa shook her head, sucking in a deep breath and looking down the field.  


Her team could go score now. Besides, Damian was still standing beside her. Without him, David and Alex could easily take on the other team.  


Straightening up she glanced at Damian who was standing a few feet to her left. And stopped. Because he was staring at her. And didn’t stop, even when she looked at him. Coughing she raised an eyebrow and asked, “What?”  


“You’re good,” Damian said, slightly out of breath. She felt a flicker of pride in her chest. She’d made him tired.  


“Surprised?” she asked, crossing her arms across his chest.  


He shook his head – not in a no fashion, but to get the hair stuck to his forehead off. He gave her a once over and then said, “You pushed me.”  


“Surprised?” she asked again, because he really did sound shocked that she’d pushed him. Or maybe that she’d been able to. But she’d always been smaller and lighter than the people she played against. She’d learned early on how to push people bigger than her off the ball.  


Damian shoved a hand through his hair, but before he could say anything shouts came from his half. They both looked over, and Tessa saw Alex smiling and the ball in the net. Looks like he scored.  


Smirking at Damian she said, “Looks like you’re losing three to one. You might want to catch up before the period ends.”  


And then she ran off, heading for the middle of the field so they could go again.  


The rest of the period went like that, with the score always in her favor. And she was feeling confident, and also out of breath and like she was dying slightly, but hey, she was winning, so it was all worth it.  


And then she had the ball at her feet, and Damian tried to push her off the ball, and she, of course, pushed back because there was no way she was letting him push _her_ , and one of them tripped and they both went down.  


A flash of pain seared through her ankle.  
Damian was up as soon as he hit the ground, taking the ball and running. And honest to god she tried to get up, except she put an inch of pressure on her ankle and pain flared. She sat back on the floor grasping it, swearing silently because it was just her luck that she had sprained it.  


Because it was a sprain. It wasn’t broken or fractured – which was a blessing, she did not need to explain a broken ankle to her dad – but damn did sprains hurt. Sighing she took off her shoe and started to gently test out her ankle, seeing just how bad the sprain was.  


Cheers erupted at her end, and she looked over her shoulder to see the ball in the net and Damian smiling – that was, until their eyes locked and he saw her on the ground.  


A frown slipped over his face, and then he was jogging towards her with concern on his face and she was silently swearing because fuck no she did _not_ need Damian Fucking Wayne worrying about her or feeling bad or whatever else he was going to do if he realized that he was partially responsible for spraining her ankle even though it was an accident.  


He reached her, and she was already trying to pull on her shoe even though it hurt, when he knelt beside her and asked, “Are you alright?”  


“Fine,” she said, and finally tugged on her shoe. And immediately hissed in pain.  


Damian frowned. “No, you’re not. Let me see your ankle.”  


“No,” Tessa said, shoving him off as he reached for her because people were starting to gather around and _stare_ and she really didn’t want this attention on her. “I’m fine.”  


“You’re not,” Damian said, but let her shove him off.  


She glared at him, and then pushed herself into a standing position, making sure to not put any weight on that ankle, and then tried to take a step. And immediately hissed in pain and lowered herself back to the ground because fuck no she couldn’t walk on that right now.  


“See,” Damian said, moving closer to her ankle and looking at it with a frown. “Your ankle’s sprained, isn’t it?”  


She sent him another glare. “No shit. But it’s fine.”  


“You can’t walk.”  


“I said it is _fine_.”  


“What’s going on over here?”  


Tessa sighed, putting her head in her hands. Great. Now not only was the entire class watching as Damian Wayne tried to help her while she argued with him, but the teacher was here. This was just wonderful.  


Before she could tell the teacher she was fine and that it was nothing, Damian said, “Her ankle’s sprained.”  


“You sure?” Mr. Velasco asked, frowning down at her ankle.  


“She can’t walk on it, so I’m pretty sure,” Damian said.  


“I can talk for myself,” Tessa said, trying not to growl.  


Mr. Velasco looked directly at her and asked, “Is your ankle sprained?”  


And because she couldn’t walk, she grumpily said, “Yes.”  


“Take her to the wellness center, Damian,” he said, and then turned to the rest of the class and shouted, “The rest of you, back at it! There’s still ten minutes left and I want to see you exercising!”  


The class left, some muttering grumpily and other’s talking in hushed whispers and glancing at her and Damian. Wonderful. She didn’t have to stretch her imagination too far to guess what they were no doubt talking about. By tomorrow everyone in the school was going to be talking about this and saying some stupid lie about her and Damian.  


She hated her life.  


“Come on,” Damian said, standing up and offering her his hand.  


“I can go by myself,” she said, glaring at his hand.  


“You can’t walk,” Damian stated, hand still extended.  


“ _I can go by myself_ ,” she gritted out, hating that he was right.  


Damian frowned. “Take my damn hand, Tessa.”  


She did. But only because she was so shocked that he actually knew her name. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him say it before.  


He pulled her up, and then before she could protest he wrapped an arm around her waist and slowly started leading her off the field, taking most of her weight so that she wouldn’t hurt her ankle more.  


For a solid minute, she could only focus on breathing and putting one foot in front of the other because he was so goddamn _close_. His entire side was pressed up against hers, and his hand was a solid weight on her waist, and she could feel every muscle in his back shift from her own arm wrapped around him. It was such a shock and an overload that her brain stopped working.  


And he smelled good. They’d just run around for forty minutes and were both sweating, and somehow he still smelled good. Like rain. Who even smelled like rain? Damian Fucking Wayne. Only he could smell like rain.  


They made it to the wellness center five minutes later because she was walking so damn slow. A fact that annoyed her, and tried to fix by walking faster, only that led to her putting too much weight on her ankle and hissing. Luckily Damian didn’t comment whenever did that. All he did was shift his grip slightly and made sure that he had most of her weight on him, a fact that she was annoyingly thankful for.  


But really, why was he being so nice? They’d done nothing but argue and bicker and compete against each other for three months. She was pretty sure he hated her, and yet here he was, helping her walk and not complaining for even a second or yelling at her when she put too much weight on her ankle.  


When they got to the wellness center the nurse lady frowned at them and asked, “What happened?”  


“I sprained my ankle during P.E.,” Tessa said as Damian helped her onto the couch.  


The lady tsked and walked off, coming back a moment later with ice and an ace bandage. She set the ice on her ankle, and Tessa had to resist from sighing in relief, before asking, “Do you know how bad it is?”  


“Not that bad,” Tessa said, because sure, she could barely walk, but within an hour or two she’d be able to. It wasn’t nearly the worst sprain she’d had. “I can’t walk easily right now but within two hours I’ll be able to.”  


“Had lots of sprains before?” the nurse asked, taking her leg and slowly bending her ankle in all direction. Tessa tried not to wince.  


“Sprained my ankle a lot when I played soccer when I was younger,” Tessa lied. She couldn’t exactly say that her dad sprained her ankle on an almost bi-monthly basis.  


The lady hummed and then started to wrap the ace bandage around her ankle. When she was done she stood up, gently setting her ankle on the floor before walking over to her desk and saying, “I’m going to call your parents to pick you up. You really shouldn’t be walking around on that ankle for the rest of the day.”  


“No!” Tessa said. Too quickly. The nurse lady looked at her, a frown on her lips. Before she could ask, Tessa lied, “My dad has a really important meeting right now. I don’t want to interrupt. I can just bus home. It’s not that far.”  


She winced internally at the thought. Her house was twenty blocks away. She’d have to walk at least five of them. That’d murder her ankle.  


“You shouldn’t be walking on your ankle,” the nurse said, still frowning. “If anything you should just wait here for your father’s meeting to end and then have him pick you up.”  


“I can drive her,” Damian said.  


Tessa started, her head snapping to her left where Damian stood. She hadn’t even noticed he was still there. How the hell had he been that quiet? And why had he stayed?  


“You need to get to class, Mr. Wayne,” the nurse lady said.  


Yes. He had to go to class. Because what was worse than her dad coming to get her would be Damian driving her home.  


“I can just bus,” Tessa said again. Anything to get Damian to leave. She did not need him driving her places. She’d had enough interaction with him for one day.  


“You can’t walk,” Damian said for what had to be the millionth time in the past ten minutes. “And if your dad can’t pick you up, then I’m the only option left.” He turned to the nurse and said, “It’ll only take fifteen minutes, max. I can miss class for that long.”  


“It’s against school policy…” the nurse lady said, although she sounded less than convinced with herself. Tessa tried not to growl. No. No, it was against school policy. He shouldn’t be allowed to go.  


“It’ll be fifteen minutes for a good cause,” Damian argued. “You could even write me a note saying I’m excused.”  


The nurse looked at Damian, and then at her, before saying, “Fine. But if anyone asks, I had no part of this.”  


“Deal,” Damian said.  


Tessa wanted to cry. She didn’t need this. Damian had already helped her enough, she didn’t need anymore. All she wanted to do was bus home. It wouldn’t be that bad. It wouldn’t be nearly as bad as Damian driving her home.  


But the nurse lady wrote two notes – one excusing Damian for the next fifteen minutes and one saying that she was allowed to go home and that she wasn’t skipping class – and then she tore off both notes, and Damian took them both before she could protest, and then he offered her a hand.  


She glared at it. She didn’t want to take it. Take his help. But then she looked at her ankle and felt it already throbbing. Still glaring, she took his hand and let him pull her up.  


He wrapped his arm around her waist again. Her stomach flipped. She glared. No, no, she did _not_ get to have a goddamn crush on Damian Wayne. She didn’t get to like the asshole who she’d been competing with and was now suddenly being nice. No. No way. She’d take a hard pass on that one.  


They walked out of the building, her trying to smother the stupid _feelings_ that were making her stomach flip and him silently helping her, and headed straight for the extremely nice matt-black car parked in front of the school.  


She snorted as he helped her in. He looked at her, eyebrow raised. “What?”  


“Your car is ridiculously nice,” she said, buckling up.  


He gave her a strange look, then circled around to the driver’s side and slid in, starting the car. He looked at her and asked, “Address?”  


She gave it to him only because she had to, and then they were off. Halfway there she realized that they were both in their P.E. clothes still. And that she was missing one of her shoes.  


She frowned down at her foot until Damian’s voice said, “If you’re worrying about your shoe, it’s in the backseat.”  


She glanced at him, eye widening, before looking in the backseat. And lo and behold, there was her shoe. Looking back at him she asked, “You carried my shoe?”  


“You were preoccupied,” Damian said, turning smoothly onto her street. She still stared. He’d cared her shoe. Who did that? “Besides, I was the one who sprained your ankle, so the least I could do was carry your shoe.”  


“You didn’t sprain my ankle,” Tessa said, looking out her window. “We crashed into each other and fell. It was just something that happened.” Then, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she said, “Unless, of course, you’re saying that you purposefully sprained my ankle.”  


“Of course not,” Damian said, looking offended.  


“Then it’s not your fault,” Tessa said, looking back out her window.  


A minute later Damian pulled into her driveway. Before he could walk around and help her out she pushed the door open and stepped out, using the car to hobble towards the front door. Damian huffed and looped his arm around her waist and helped her. She could have sworn she heard him mumble something about stubbornness.  


They reached the front door – and it was at that exact moment that she realized she didn’t have her bag. Which meant that she didn’t have her keys.  


Closing her eyes she said, “My bag’s still in my locker.”  


“You got a spare?” Damian asked.  


She looked at him, gave him a once over, and then said, “I’m not sure I like the idea of you knowing where my spare key is.”  


“Well it’s either that or I pick the lock,” Damian said, looking her straight in the eye. “Your choice.”  


She frowned. And then pointed at one of the potted plants, because if he could pick a lock then him knowing where the spare was made no difference. “The purple flowery one in the white pot. It’s buried in the dirt on the side farthest from the path.”  


Damian nodded, and after making sure she was steady against the wall he went over and dug out the key. And then he unlocked the door, letting it swing open.  


Giving him a tight smile she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”  


Damian nodded and echoed, “See you tomorrow.” And then he turned to leave.  


Right as he was about to get in his car, she called, “Damian?”  


He paused, looking at her. “Yeah?”  


“Thank you.”  


“No problem.”  


And then he got into his car and drove off.  


She hobbled into her house, up her stairs, and then collapsed on her bed. This had really been one hell of a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment telling me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bat-Boys find out about Tessa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so here's the next chapter. I had a lot of fun writing Damian with his siblings, it's honestly my favorite thing to write, so I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do.

Chapter 4

Damian Wayne parked his car across the street, grabbed Tessa’s bag and the shoe she had still somehow managed to forget, and walked up to her front door. And then he rang her doorbell, hearing the chime ring through the house inside. 

And… his stomach fluttered. 

Was that… was that _nerves_? No, there was no way. He didn’t get nervous. He fought the worst kind of people in the world on a daily basis. He had been yelled at by Batman. He’d been yelled at by _Alfred_. He didn’t get nervous, especially not about giving some girl her backpack after he’d basically sprained her ankle. 

He cringed internally at the thought. He hadn’t meant to. Honestly, he hadn’t even meant to get that into the sport. But then he’d seen her with the ball, and he couldn’t help but steal it, and then out of nowhere she had started playing and was damn at it. And had sent him a stupid little smirk that made his competitive streak spark even as his face heated slightly at the sight. 

And she had been better than him. At a sport. At a _physical activity_. Or, not better, because no one was better than him, but good enough that she was equal to him and he couldn’t catch up, especially since there were those other two people who were nearly as good as them both. 

That, and the fact that every time they got close and she’d shove him off the ball he’d tense up and forget what exactly he was doing. It was infuriating. A girl her size shouldn’t even try to push him off him off the ball and definitely shouldn’t be able to, but somehow Tessa Morgan had. 

Two minutes passed, and he still hadn’t heard any movement from inside. Frowning Damian rang the doorbell again. Maybe she was asleep? 

“Who is it!” A voice called. From his right. 

Walking backwards onto the path, Damian looked to his right and saw Tessa leaning out a window on the second floor. 

For a moment all he could do was stare. Her whole upper body was practically out, making it look like she was a wobble away from falling. Mentally he did the calculations so that if she did fall – something that her sprained ankle made much more likely – that he could catch her before she hit the ground. 

Shaking his head, he gave a little wave and held up her backpack and called back, “You said you left your backpack so I thought I’d bring it to you!” 

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought her face turned slightly red. 

“Damian?” 

“Yeah?” 

She leaned against her window, farther back into her room so that it looked less like she was falling out. He felt himself relax but didn’t stop training his eyes on her. She could still fall. The least he could do was catch her if she did. 

After a moment Tessa said, “You know how to pick locks, right?” 

“…Yes,” he said, slowly, because he’d said that, right? When he’d dropped her off the first time, after she had looked like she wouldn’t tell him where the spare is. He snorted. She was so damn stubborn. 

“Great, pick my lock then,” she said. “Go up the stairs on your right and then to the second door on the right. That’s my room.” 

He stood there, slightly frozen, because– “You _want_ me to break into your house?” 

“I don’t want to walk down the stairs on my ankle,” Tessa said, crossing her arms and pouting, her lower lip jutting out. He couldn’t help but stare at the movement. “Unless, of course, you want me to hurt my ankle more?” 

He glared. “Fine. I’ll be up in a minute.” 

Damian trudged back to her front door, slung her backpack over his shoulder, pulled out his lock picks, and then set to work. 

Of all the things he’d thought he’d be doing today, breaking into Tessa Morgan’s house hadn’t been on the list. 

Seconds later the lock clicked and the door swung open. Hesitantly he walked into the house and shut the door behind him, looking around at the perfectly placed everything. The house barely looked lived in. 

Shaking his head he walked up the stairs she’d told him to, and then with a quick knock on her door he pushed it open. 

The room was a mix of purple and gray and white, with tons of pillows and blankets and those lights that girls liked hung across the ceiling. And this room, unlike the rest of the immaculate house, looked lived in. Things were strewn over the floor, jackets tossed over the backs of chairs, a desk covered in books and paper and every other school supply in existence. 

And sitting on the bed, propped up by a mound of pillows and a book placed beside her, was Tessa Morgan. Wearing pajamas. 

For a single moment, he just stared. It was weird. He’d only ever seen her in the school uniform, and sure she looked good in it, but there was something so relaxed and Tessa-like about her wearing a pair of plaid pants and a tank top with an over-big zip-up hoodie. 

She gave him a tight smile and said, “Thanks for bringing it. You can just toss it on the chair by my desk.” 

He did, and then held up the shoe that she’d forgotten and asked, “And this?” 

Tessa cringed. “Toss it over there,” she said, pointing at the corner where all her other shoes were piled. He walked over and set it down, trying not to touch or disturb anything in the room. 

Then he stood up and stared at her. Now what was he supposed to do? Was he going to have to talk? He sucked at talking. He glanced at the window. Maybe he should jump out of it. It’d be preferable to the awkward silence that– 

All of the sudden Tessa snorted and said, “I feel like I should make a joke about Cinderella.” 

Damian’s chest loosened. Thank god the awkward silence was over. And then he frowned. “Wouldn’t that make me prince charming?” 

Tessa’s face turned bright red, and Damian froze, because he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Why had he said that out loud? 

Coughing he said, “Do you need anything?” 

Tessa shook her head, brown hair falling into her face. His fingers twitched at his side, wanting to push it behind her ear. Why did he want to push it behind her ear? “I’m good,” she said, and then nodded to the small table beside her. “I’ve got everything I need.” 

Damian looked at the table, which had about five different snacks and two water bottles on it, along with paper, pencils, more books, and what looked like a keychain. He nodded, looking back at her, and said, “I’m going to go… then.” 

“Okay,” Tessa said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He nodded and turned to leave, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Why was he so wound up? It didn’t make sense. He was just being helpful because he was directly involved in hurting her. This was nothing. He was just fixing what he’d done wrong– 

“Actually can you do me a favor?” 

Damian spun around at her voice. And then he cleared his throat and said, “Sure.” 

“Can you put the spare key back in the pot?” Tessa asked, an awkward smile on her face. “It’s on the corner of my desk.” 

“Sure,” he repeated, then walked over and grabbed the key. He turned back to her, about to double check which pot it went into even though he already knew, when her jacket slipped off her shoulder. And exposed a large purple bruise. 

Anger flickered in his chest. She was hurt. She’d been hurt _by someone_. That was the type of bruise you got when someone punched you. Someone had _hit_ her. His hands balled into fists and he had to remind himself to breathe or he might just break something in this room. 

Tessa's eyes flicked down to her shoulder. She tugged her jacket back up, covering the bruise, and explained, “I tripped and slammed my shoulder into the corner of the wall. You’ve probably noticed by now how much of a klutz I am.” 

Damian frowned. She wasn’t a klutz. She was actually very coordinated. And that was a lie. She was lying. And he would have called her on it if she hadn’t had that flicker of fear in her eyes. So instead he smothered his anger as best he could and said, “You should ice your ankle.” 

A flicker of relief flashed across her face. “I will.” 

And then he left, shutting the door behind him. He only stopped once, to put the key back into the pot, before he drove home, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest.

\--------------------------

Damian hit the mat. Again. 

“That’s the sixth time I’ve knocked you down in an hour,” Dick said, towering over him. Damian glared, because he _knew_ that, and saying it wasn’t _helping_ , and he was about to snarl that along with a few choice words when Dick said, “What’s got you distracted?” 

“Nothing,” Damian huffed, pushing back to his feet and raising his fists. “Let’s go again.” 

“Dami–” 

He didn’t let him finished. He just attacked, a fist flying towards Dick’s head, because he did not want to have this conversation. Not with him. Not with anyone. 

Dick caught his fist and twisted, and before Damian could blink he was on the floor with Dick pressing a knee into his back and twisting his arm behind him. Seven seconds. It had taken him seven seconds to beat him. Damian let his head fall to the mat. This was definitely a new low. 

Dick let go of his hand and rolled off him. Groaning Damian sat up, rolling his shoulder, and found Dick looking at him with his worried-big-brother face. Damian just closed his eyes and said, “I really don’t want to have this conversation.” 

“Well too bad, we’re having it,” Dick said. “You’re distracted Damian, and you’re never distracted. Ever. I don’t think in the six years that you’ve been here that I’ve ever seen you distracted, so you’re either sick or something’s going on.” 

“I’m sick,” Damian said, because _he did not want to have this conversation_. 

“Damian.” 

“I am.” 

“Damian.” 

He coughed, twice, not even bothering to make it sound real. “See?” 

“Damian.” 

He groaned and flopped back onto the matt, covering his face with his hands and said, “Drop it, Dick. I’m not going to talk about this.” 

Because he couldn’t tell his older brother that he was distracted by some _girl_. That was… humiliating. It was humiliating. He was distracted and lacking judgment because some girl was occupying his thoughts. 

Some girl who had made his stomach do stupid things that it _never_ did. Some girl who’s ankle he had accidentally sprained because he had been careless. He still couldn’t believe that it had happened. He’d _sprained_ her _ankle_. He’d gotten so distracted because of their competition and the maddening grins she’d send him, and he’d sprained her ankle. 

And then, then, when he’d gone to drop off her backpack, there had been a bruise on her shoulder. A bruise that was not from falling like she claimed. He knew those types of bruises. They were given. Someone had hit her – and when he had a little bit more sense, he was going to find out who. 

Telling Dick any of that – Dick, who was amazing with girls and all the stuff that Damian had no idea how to handle – was not something he planned to do. 

“It can’t be that bad,” Dick said, a small laugh in his voice. Damian lifted his head up enough to glare at him. Dick just raised his hands in surrender and said, “Sorry. I’m won’t laugh. I promise, whatever it is, I won’t laugh.” 

Damian just let his head drop back to the mat and didn’t say anything. 

Dick nudged him with his foot and said, “Come on Damian, talk to me. You know I won’t tell the others.” 

Damian covered his face with his hands again. Even _thinking_ about Jason or Tim finding out that he had a _crush_ – because that’s what it was, even if he hadn’t quite grudgingly admitted it to himself yet – made his face heat up. 

“Damian,” Dick whined, poking him again. He swatted at his foot. “I’m not going to stop until you tell me.” 

He just flipped him off. 

“Rude,” Dick said, and poked him with his foot again. “Tell me.” Another poke. “Damian.” Another. “Damian tell me.” Another poke, this time sharper. “Damian.” Another. “Damia–” 

“There’s this girl, alright!” Damian shouted and sat up, hands flying up as he glared. “There, happy? Can we dro–” 

“There’s a _girl_?” 

Damian’s head snapped to the stairs, and there were Jason and Tim. Staring at him. Shock and horror and a _glint_ in their eyes and oh god _this could not be happening_. 

“I did hear that right, right?” Jason said, walking down the steps and taking a seat next to Dick. “Damian did just say that he liked a girl, right?” 

“I did not say–” 

“His exact words,” Time cut in, “was that there _wasi_ a girl. Not that he liked one.” 

“Same thing,” Jason said, waving off Tim before looking back at Damian and repeating, “You like a girl.” 

Damian groaned and laid back down on the mat. 

This was a nightmare. He was having a nightmare. 

“Who is she?” Jason asked with way too much interest in his voice for Damian’s liking. “Is she pretty? What’s her name? Ooo I bet it’s like Briana or somethi–” 

“Jason,” Dick cut in. “Enough.” 

“But–” 

“ _Enough_ ,” Dick repeated. Thank god for Dick Grayson. “This is new for Damian and we are not going to tease him about it or push him about it. He can tell us however much he wants or not tell us anything at all and we’re going to respect that, understand?” 

There were muttered agreements, and then Tim asked, “Can we at least know her name?” 

“No,” Damian said, sitting up again. “If I tell you her name you’ll just look her up and then probably track her down.” 

Tim shrugged, as if to say _you’re probably right_ , and said, “Fine. We’ll figure it out sooner or later anyway.” 

“Yeah, now we know that we need to stay on the lookout,” Jason said. 

“Guys,” Dick protested. “You just promised.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jason said. “But that only counts for the next week. After that, it’s game on.” 

Damian groaned again – something he seemed to be doing a lot today – before sitting up and fixing all of them with a hard glare. “When you find out who she is,” Damian said, because it really was a when in this family, “promise that you won’t harass her. That’s about the last thing she’d want.” 

“We won’t harass her,” Jason said, raising his right hand. “Robin’s honor.” 

“Yeah, we’ll just stalk her without her knowledge,” Tim said. Damian bared his teeth. 

“Cut it out,” Dick said, scooting forward a bit until he was more between him and Tim. Then he frowned and looked at Damian. “So did something happen? Is that why you’re more distracted?” 

Before he could think through what he was saying, or even realize what he was saying, Damian said, “I sprained her ankle.” 

There were four seconds of shocked silence. Four seconds. And then Jason started laughing so hard that he fell over and started gasping for air. Dick and Tim just kept staring at him. Damian could feel his face getting redder by the second. Why had he said that? 

Gasping for air Jason said, “You… you broke… you broke her… her ankle?” 

“Sprained,” Damian corrected, ignoring the twinge of guilt. 

That sent Jason into a whole new fit of laughter, and not even Dick jabbing him hard in the side got him to shut up. Neither did his glaring. 

Still staring at him, Tim asked, “How dumb _are_ you?” 

Damian lunged, his fist ready to connect with Tim’s jaw, when Dick caught him around the waist and pinned him down to the matt. Glaring over his shoulder Dick snapped, “Not cool, Tim.” 

“He sprained the girl’s ankle,” Tim said, shaking his head. “He has to be pretty dumb to do that.” 

Damian lunged again, but Dick didn’t let him land the punch that he so wanted to smash into Drake’s jaw. And it wasn’t because he was wrong. It was because he was right, and he _hated_ when Drake was right. 

“Tim,” Dick warned. 

Tim raised his hands in surrender. 

Dick looked at Damian then slowly let go. He debated for half a second to try and punch Drake again, but with Dick there it’d be pointless. He’d punch him later. 

Jason sat back up, wiping at his eyes, and asked, “How do you even _do_ that?” 

Damian’s jaw clenched. “It was in P.E.” 

“So you what?” Tim asked, crossing his arms. “You knocked her over and she twisted her ankle?” 

Damian didn’t say anything. 

Tim’s laugh pierced the air, the sound grating on every single one of Damian’s nerves. “Oh god you did. You knocked her over. You really are an idiot.” 

“ _Tim_ ,” Dick snapped. 

“What did you do after that?” Jason asked. Like this was some reality show he was watching. 

“I took her to the office, and then when her dad couldn’t come pick her up I drove her home.” They stared at him again. Another flutter shot through his stomach. He couldn’t help it, or the question that shot out of his mouth. “Should I not have done that?” 

“No, that’s good,” Dick said, putting a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Did she seem happy about that?” 

“Yeah, it’s only good if she seemed happy,” Jason said. 

Damian thought back, trying to remember what her face had looked like and what feelings that might suggest, but he was bad enough with his own feelings that he wasn’t sure if he could accurately guess what she was feeling. She’d been… closed off. Tense. But she’d said thank you. And smiled – that smile that made his stomach go all flip-floppy. 

“I think so,” Damian said. 

“Then you didn’t completely fuck up,” Jason said. 

And somehow, those words made him feel better. He hadn’t completely screwed up. And that was enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment about what you thought! Constructive criticism is more than welcome.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and her dad get in a fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey losers, here's the next chapter. It's a little shorter than normal so sorry about that, but I didn't want to stretch it out forever and it made sense to cut it here then to combine it with the next chapter, so I hope you enjoy :)

Tessa limped down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing and trying to put as little pressure on her injured ankle as possible. Which was hard. She hadn’t realized just how hard it was to limp or how exhausting it was. Or how it was starting to make her other leg hurt. 

It was ridiculous. In order to make sure her sprained ankle didn’t hurt, she had to put almost all of her weight on her other leg, and then that leg started to her. Then, if she put more weight on her injured ankle, her leg would stop hurting but her ankle would feel like it was dying. She actually couldn’t win in this situation. 

She made it down the stairs and limped into the kitchen, tossing frozen mac and cheese into the microwave. The hum of the microwave filled the air as she sat down on one of the stools, her non-injured leg bouncing up and down while she waited. 

Her eyes drifted down to her sprained ankle. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten it from playing soccer. She hadn’t played in years, and then the first time she played again, in _P.E._ nonetheless, she hurt herself. What were the chances? And what were the chances that _Damian Wayne_ would be the cause of it? 

Sure, they’d been having their weird competitive thing going on in their other classes, but she hadn’t thought that it would translate to P.E. P.E. sucked. She barely participated. But of course, the one time that she did, she just had to go and let her competitive side get the better of her, and _of course_ Damian would be the one she was being competitive with. 

Honestly, at this point, she really shouldn’t be surprised. Life seemed to like to mess with her, especially when it came to Damian Wayne. 

Damian Wayne who had taken her to the nurse’s office, and then had driven her home. He’d driven her home. She still couldn’t quite believe it. And then, then – because of some stupid comment she’d made about forgetting it – he’d driven to her house _again_ and brought her backpack. And her shoe. The goddamn shoe that she left on the field, and then the office, and then his car. He’d carried around her shoe all day. 

She covered her face with her hands and screamed. She was never going to be able to live that one down. 

The microwave beeped. Sliding off the stool Tessa carefully walked over and opened the microwave, swearing when she touched her dinner because _hot_. She always did that. Somehow, her stupid brain never got the message that things could be hot. 

Blowing on her fingers she grabbed a plate and pushed the mac and cheese dish onto it so that she could carry it up the stairs without burning her fingers or falling over, the latter being more likely at this point. Tessa grabbed the plate and turned to start walking– 

And froze when the sound of the lock turning filled her ears. 

No. No, no, no, _no_. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet. It was supposed to be another hour. He was supposed to be working really late tonight. 

But the door swung open and in stepped her dad, dark eyes immediately finding her own. 

Quickly she smoothed out her features and sent him one of her well-practiced fake smiles. And then she started walking towards him, trying to keep her steps as even as possible even though the pain in her ankle made her want to curl on the floor and cry. “Hey, Dad.” 

“Tessa,” he said, setting his briefcase down on the table he always did and hanging up his coat next to the door. His speed wasn’t slurred, and he was standing straight. She nearly sighed in relief. He wasn’t drunk tonight. 

She nearly made it to the stairs without an incident, but as soon as she reached it her dad looked at her, gave her a once-over, then asked, “Are you limping?” 

“No,” Tessa said. He couldn’t know that she’d played soccer. Couldn’t know about anything that happened today. 

He frowned, stepping closer to her. “Why’s you’re ankle wrapped then?” 

Tessa tried not to flinch. “I hurt it at school and the nurse said I should keep it wrapped even though it’s basically nothing.” 

Her voice was steady and she knew nothing showed on her face, but her dad still took another step forward and looked down on her, using his height to his advantage. She tried not to curl in on herself. “What’d she say it was?” 

“A minor sprain.” 

“How’d you get it?” 

“I tripped.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Running.” 

“Why were you running?” 

“I was late to class.” 

Her dad hummed and took another step closer. Her breath hitched. “See, I was under the impression that you got it during P.E. while you were playing soccer. So are you lying or is the school?” 

No space. There was no space. He’d trapped her between him and the wall. She couldn’t run. 

“I… I–” 

The hit came before she could come up with an excuse. She hit the wall, her ankle giving out under her as she fell to the floor. She couldn’t help the sob that crawled out of her chest. 

Crouching down so that he was closer to her, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked, forcing her to look at him. She tried to smother a whimper. It didn’t work. 

Face inched from her own, her dad asked, “What have we said about lying, Tessie?” 

She swallowed a sob. “Not to lie.” 

“Not to lie,” he repeated, and then let go of her hair. Her head thudded against the floor. She blinked away tears, but before she could focus he lashed out. She groaned as his foot hit her gut. “Seems you haven’t learned that lesson yet. Shall I make sure you get it this time?” 

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. No. No, she didn’t want a lesson. She didn’t want to hurt any more than she already did. She didn’t want him to hit her. 

Tears streamed down her face. She choked out, “No, I know it’s wrong. I know, I promise I know please–” 

“Do you though, Tessie?” he asked, staring down at her. 

She nodded. “I do. I swear I do.” 

He looked down at her, his face twisting. “I don’t think you do.” 

She tried to run. Tried to crawl around him, push him out of the way. She couldn’t. She could barely stand on her throbbing ankle. She couldn’t do anything. All she could do was feebly try and kick him off. 

He hit her, a kick to her ribs that she knew would leave bruises, ones on her legs, her shoulders, her back. Anywhere that wouldn’t be visible. Anywhere that he knew she could keep hidden so that no one would ask questions about where the bruises came from. 

She screamed, and cried, and tried to get away. She made it a foot away before he grabbed her ankle. 

She screamed as his grip tightened and pain lanced up her leg. She kicked, trying to get him to let go, but that only made her ankle hurt more and she ended up lying on the ground sobbing and weakly trying to pull her ankle from his grip. 

It didn’t do anything. 

It didn’t stop him. 

Not when he twisted her ankle _wrong_ and she heard the _pop-snap_ of her bone breaking. Blinding pain shot through her ankle, so much so that she screamed and sobbed and screamed some more. 

And then darkness – blissful, empty darkness – took her and she knew no more. 

\------------------------------- 

White. Sterile. Scratchy sheet. Those were the first things she noticed when she opened her eyes. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize she was in the hospital. She’d been in one of these enough times that she could practically recognize it with her eyes closed – but she’d hoped now that she was older she wouldn’t have to come here anymore. Now that she was older and smarter and could avoid her dad’s blows easier. 

She felt like crying. Of course she’d been wrong. She should know by now that she couldn’t escape her dad. Couldn’t do anything to save herself. 

The door opened and in walked a nurse with two braids keeping her hair out of her face. She smiled brightly at her and said, “It’s good to see that you’re finally awake Tessa. How are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” she said, her voice thick. The nurse handed her a cup with a straw. She took it, taking a sip, glad that she thought it was disuse and not tears that were causing her voice to sound strained. 

Because even if she hated it, hated her dad and the beatings and the hospital visits, telling people didn’t help. The one time she’d tried no one had done anything and all she’d accomplished was getting another, worse beating than the one she’d managed to run away from. 

No, having someone find out did nothing but cause more problems, and she had enough problems already. 

Besides, she could handle it. Had been handling it since she was nine and her mother walked out on her. She could handle it a little longer. 

“Tired is to be suspected,” the nurse said, brown eyes looking over her medical sheet. “You did break your ankle after all due to that nasty tumble down the stairs.” 

Tessa had to bite back her snort. That’s what her dad was going with? A fall down the stairs? Guess it worked, with the bruises and the broken bone. Explained away all her injuries with a nice little bow. She bit down on the straw. 

“Yeah I tend to be clumsy,” Tessa said, giving the nurse a tight smile. 

The nurse gave her a look that said she didn’t quite believe her, but said, “Well try to be more careful, yeah? We don’t want you ending up here again.” 

“No, we don’t,” Tessa agreed. If she had a choice she’d never end up in a hospital again. 

With a sigh, the nurse flipped the sheets in her file back to the front and said, “I need to go over your injuries with you and how to take care of them. Would you like your dad in the room for that, or would you rather keep him outside?” 

Tessa’s heart clenched. Next to her, the heart rate monitor spiked, and the nurse raised an eyebrow at her. Trying to smile the issue away Tessa said, “I’d like him here.” 

Even though she didn’t. She didn’t want her dad within ten feet of her. 

The nurse leaned out the door and motioned to someone, and in walked her dad in his perfectly pressed suit and perfectly styled hair. You’d think that when it’s the middle of the night and he’d just beaten his daughter bad enough that they were in the ER, he wouldn’t look perfect. But nope. Even then he looked perfect. 

He smiled at her and asked, “How you doing, Tessie?” 

She had to fight back her cringe. His smile looked real enough, but she saw the bite in it. The warning. The threat. So she smiled back and said, “Well the cast kinda sucks but I’m doing fine.” 

And the cast did suck. She felt it right below her knee and curling over her ankle and ending just before her toes. She was going to be hobbling around on crutches for weeks with this big clunky thing getting in the way of everything. And the itching – god she hated the itchiness that came with casts. She was going to have to deal with that too. 

All thanks to dear old dad. She’d have to send him a thank-you card later. 

“Alright, have you had a cast before?” the nurse asked. Tessa nodded. “Good, then I’ll skip how to take care of it. You’re going to have to wear the cast for six weeks, and every two weeks you’re going to have to come in here so that we can monitor the healing. At four weeks we might change out the cast depending on if the swelling has gone down. Besides that, don’t put any pressure on your ankle and keep it elevated as much as possible. There’s a pair of crutches against the door for you, and the elevator is around the corner to your right. 

“You also have some bruises, both on your stomach and back as well as a few on your legs. Those should heal within a week or two, but if they seem to not be healing you should talk to your pediatrician about that. Any questions?” 

Tessa shook her head. 

The nurse looked at her dad. “I think we’re good,” he said. “Can I take Tessa home now?” 

“Yup, she just needs to get dressed first so if you could step out for a minute that’d be great. I’ll bring her out to you when she’s dressed.” 

“Of course,” he said, heading out of the room. He looked at her and said, “I’ll be just outside if you need me, alright Tessie?” 

She nodded, unable to speak. This was always her least favorite part. The pretending. The lies. The smiles that made her want to claw her face off. The fear that lanced through her stomach that if she said the wrong thing in front of people that she’d get more bruises when she got home. The way her dad acted sweet, like the loving, caring dad that she should have instead of the manipulative bastard that he was. 

The door shut. She felt herself relax a little. 

The nurse smiled at her and said, “Alright sweetheart, let’s get you dressed.” 

It took some struggled and swearing with the pants on both their parts, but they finally got the shorts up and over the cast. The shirt was easy enough, and after running her fingers through her hair to try and deal with some of the bedhead she no doubt had, Tessa grabbed her crutches and placed them under her arms, ready to go. 

But the nurse stepped in front of her and said, “Do you need help with anything else?” 

Tessa tensed. There was the question she’d seen the nurse working herself up to ask the entire time. She saw her injuries, and then how she acted with her dad, and heard the story he told, and decided that there were holes. And that those holes led to a girl who needed help. 

But she didn’t need help. She could deal with this herself – had been dealing with this herself for seven years now. She was perfectly capable of helping herself. 

So Tessa smiled too-brightly and said, “Nope. I’m all set.” 

The nurse frowned slightly but opened the door and let her walk out. Her dad was leaning against the wall and pushed off when he saw her, smiling one of those dazzling fake smiles that they were both good at, and asked, “Ready to go home?” 

“Ready,” she said, even though that was the last place she wanted to be. 

They didn’t say anything as they walked – or in her case, limped – out of the hospital. It wasn’t until they got into the car and had been driving for a solid minute that her dad said, “If you tell anyone the truth, I’ll break your other ankle.” 

Tessa’s lips curled. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” 

She’d keep it to herself, just like she always did, and deal with all the questions and the stares with the lies she was already forming in her head. She’d done it a million times before. Explain away the bruises. The cuts. The sprains. The broken bones. The dead look in her eye. She’d explained away so many things before that she didn’t even have to think hard to come up with a good lie. 

So she’d explain things away again. It was what she was good at, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very much appreciated, so tell me what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian finds out about Tessa's broken ankle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone here's the next chapter. We're starting to get more plot-y, and while I don't know exactly where this is going I want to thank everyone for reading and kudo-ing and the people who've commented. It always makes my day when I see people are reading and liking my story, so just thank you and I hope you like this chapter :)

Damian sat in first period, his leg bouncing up and down in his seat, as he waited for Tessa to walk in the room. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He couldn’t get rid of the nagging guilt about hurting her, or the thought that she probably hated him now – even if all his brother’s had agreed that he hadn’t screwed up. 

He’d hurt her. And sure, she’d said in the car that it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t get rid of the thought that she hated him. Or that she should, at the very least. Between their stupid competition and the way he always rubbed it in her face when he beat her and the time he’d actually _threatened_ her of all things, all add up to one conclusion: that he’d made her hate him. 

If that wasn’t enough to make him fidget – and he never fidgeted – then there was that bruise. His hands balled into fists at the thought. He searched for hours and hours of feeds last night of the school, looking for the asshole who had decided to hit her, but found nothing. And then he scanned the feeds on her walk home and the ones surrounding her house to find the person, and still hadn’t found anything. There was nothing. Not a single person who could have done that. 

If the bruise wasn’t such a clear picture in his head, he might have let it go and believed her when she said she ran into something. But he couldn’t. Not when the bruise looked like a punch. Not when she had hesitated and looked afraid when he’d asked about. All of that pointed to the fact that someone had hit her. 

Damian took a deep breath. He couldn’t think about that here. He’d broken a punching bag last night after his lack of success – he didn’t need to break anything here because he got worked up again. 

Instead, he watched the people filing into class, waiting for the familiar brown hair and gray eyes that belonged to Tessa. He didn’t know when they’d become familiar. When he’d been able to pick them out in whatever room he was in. It just… had. Sometime between their traded glares and victorious smirks he’d become able to find her wherever she was. 

She should be here by now. She was always early, one of the first people in the room, but she wasn’t here. He drummed his fingers against the desk. She was probably just running late. If her ankle was still hurting she’d be moving slower than normal which gave her a perfectly reasonable excuse to be later than normal to class. 

Just when he was about to get up and go look for her, he spotted her walking through the door with her backpack slung across her shoulder and her hair falling into her face like it always did and– 

Were those crutches? 

He stared, not fully comprehending what he was seeing, as Tessa walked across the room using _crutches_ with her ankle in a _cast_. Her ankle was in a cast. Why was her ankle in a cast? 

Damian half-stood to go talk to her, but before he could the bell rang and he was forced to sit back down as the teacher walked in and said, “Alright everyone, take out your books.” 

Groans filled the room, but Damian didn’t care. He didn’t even bother to take out his book and pretend like he was paying attention. All he cared about was catching Tessa’s eyes three rows to his left and silently asking her what the hell had happened, because something had happened. He’d seen her ankle, and it wasn’t broken. She shouldn’t have a cast and crutches. 

He looked at her, except she didn’t look up. She just kept staring at the stupid book. 

A quarter of the class passed and she still didn’t look up. Then half. Two-thirds. Just when he was about to say fuck it and walk across the room she finally looked up, their eyes meeting. 

She gave him a little smile, one that made his heart skip a beat and his stomach flutter in ways that _should not happeni_. He stifled the feelings. Now wasn’t the time to have stupid emotions that he didn’t want to deal with anyway. Now was the time to figure out what the hell had happened to her ankle. 

He glanced between her cast and her eyes, an eyebrow raised in a silent question. 

Tessa frowned slightly, and Damian watched as she looked down at her cast before looking back at him. And then she shook her head and mouthed _later_. 

Damian hid his own frown but looked away. Damn right she’d tell him later. And by later, he meant at the end of class when the fucking bell finally rang and he could fucking talk to her and find out what the fuck happened. 

The rest of class seemed to drag on forever. He tapped his fingers, constantly glancing at the clock. Ten minutes left. Seven. Five. The teacher was still droning on, talking about the book and trying to get people’s opinions. He ignored him. Three minutes. Two. One– 

The bell rang. He was out of his seat before anyone else. 

He reached her before half the class had even stood up. Tessa gave him an incredulous look as he approached her, along with most of the other people still left in the room, but he didn’t care. He sent them all a glare that told them to leave then looked at Tessa and said, “Your ankle was sprained.” 

Tessa frowned and crossed her arms, pausing packing up her bag. “Hello to you too, Damian.” 

Damian frowned. “Hello,” he said, the repeated, “Your ankle was sprained.” 

Tessa sighed and started packing up again. “Has anyone told you that you don’t have a lot of tact? Cause you don’t.” 

He let out one long, controlled breath before saying, “Tessa, your ankle wasn’t broken when I left yesterday, so what happened?” 

Tessa gave him a once over that made him tense and said, “Tripped walking down the stairs to get dinner.” 

Liar. He nearly said it out loud, too, but he bit his tongue. If she wanted to lie, fine. She could lie. He’d figure out what really happened when he got home and could put on his cape. Until then though… 

Before she could protest, Damian grabbed her backpack and slung it over his shoulder, scooped up her books, and started walking out of the room. It was the least he could do, especially since part of the injury was his fault. Besides, carrying stuff while using crutches was awful and they were going to the same place anyway. 

Though that didn’t matter. Even if they weren’t going to the same place he would have carried her stuff. And probably would for the rest of the day. It wasn’t like he would be late to any of his classes, and even if he was his teachers wouldn’t do anything. Perks of being a Wayne and all that. 

So Damian walked out of the room and headed for history, her stuff in his hands and leaving her to follow. 

\------------------------------- 

Tessa sat in her seat for a solid ten seconds, simply staring at the space Damian had been before he’d grabbed her stuff and walked out of the room without a word. And then she stood up, shoved her crutches under her arms, and went after him. 

She didn’t even care that the hallway was still full of people when she yelled, “Damian Wayne, give me my stuff!” 

Damian looked over and raised an eyebrow, stopping where he was and letting her catch up. She did, overly conscious of how many people were watching them. It seemed like everyone in the hall was staring at them. Some people had even stopped to see what was happening. She looked around self-consciously because he might be used to the stares, but she definitely wasn’t. 

And then Damian was glaring at everyone around them, using one of those looks she’d seen him give people when he wanted them to leave, and traffic started moving again. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

Then she glared at Damian and said, “Give me my stuff.” 

“I’ve got it,” he said, adjusting her backpack on his shoulder. 

“I don’t care,” she said, reaching for her books. He turned so she couldn’t reach them. Huffing she said, “Damian.” 

“Tessa,” he mimicked. She just kept glaring until he finally sighed and said, “Look, I was the one who hurt your ankle in the first place, so I’m partially responsible for the cast and crutches.” 

She opened her mouth to protest, because it was _not_ his fault in the slightest, it was her asshole dad’s fault, and she wasn’t going to let him blame himself, but he held up a hand and continued, “Besides, carrying things while also using crutches sucks, and we’re going to the same place anyway, so let me be nice and carry your stuff for you.” 

Tessa snapped her mouth shut. She hadn’t expected that. Actually, she hadn’t had any idea what to expect when he’d grabbed her stuff and walked out of the room. Sure, he’d been extremely nice yesterday and she was having a hard time smothering down the crush she’d had since the beginning of the year, but she didn’t _know_ him. For all she knew he’d been stealing her stuff. 

Though why Damian Wayne would need to steal anything was beyond her. He could buy whatever he wanted. 

So she readjusted her crutches and said, “Fine.” 

And they walked to class in silence that was so awkward she wanted to break her ankle again just so that she could leave. Luckily they got to class quickly, and he put her stuff on her desk before walking across the room and taking a seat at his own. 

And… everyone was staring. Tessa buried her face in her hands. This was wonderful. She could already hear the rumors that’d be flying around the school by the end of the day. Damian Wayne is dating the quiet nobody Tessa Morgan. She nearly snorted. Like that would ever happen. 

Class passed in a blur, and she was about to stand up and leave when Damian was once again standing in front of her and taking her stuff. Except this time she frowned and didn’t let go of her backpack. “What are you doing?” 

“Carrying your stuff,” he said, tugging lightly on her backpack. She didn’t let go. 

“We don’t have class together next period.” 

“I know.” 

She frowned. He had only carried her stuff the first time because they’d been going to the same place, so what gives? Now he was just going to walk her to all her classes? The gossips were going to _love_ speculating about that. 

“Give me my books, Damian,” she said, tugging on her backpack again. He didn’t let go. 

Instead he glared and said, “Can you stop being so stubborn and let me help?” 

“No, I can’t,” she said, tugging harder on her backpack. “Can you stop being stubborn and let me carry my own stuff?” 

“No, I can’t,” he mimicked. 

She wanted to scream. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way she was sitting in class arguing with Damian Wayne about letting him carry her stuff or not. There was no way this should be real. 

Yet it was, and she was here, and he was still holding her books and had one of her backpack straps in his hand. 

She glared. Why? Why did the world hate her? What was she being punished for this time, because she was pretty sure that whatever it was her broken ankle she cover it. 

Sighing she growled, “Do I even get a choice?” 

“No,” Damian said, tugging on her backpack again. She let go this time because fuck this argument wasn’t worth it. 

The rest of the day passed like that. He even came _back_ to the classes they didn’t share to grab her stuff and walk her to the next class. Honestly, it was ridiculous. She could function on her own. She knew how to take care of herself. And yet here was Damian, carrying her stuff and walking her to class. 

And then, _then_ , to put the topping on the cake, when lunch rolled around, he asked her where she sat. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she took stuff out of her locker and put stuff back in and said, “Library. I like to start on my homework.” 

“Great,” he said, taking her bag from her and heading for the library. She followed, not bothering to hide the confused look on her face because honestly, she didn’t have any clue what was happening. It was like she was in some weird parallel universe. Or a dream. Actually, a dream would make a lot more sense than whatever the hell this reality was. 

He put her stuff down on an empty table, and then, to her utter shock and horror, he sat down across from her. 

For a long moment, she just stood there and stared at him. It took a shake of her head to get her to focus and ask, “What are you doing?” 

“Homework,” he said, pulling out a book. And then he looked up, actual worry on his face, and asked, “Is that alright?” 

She sat down, still looking at him, because that was worry. He was actually asking if it was alright if he sat with her, and would no doubt stand up and leave if she asked. And then come right back when the bell rang and walk her to class again. Trying to hide her shock she said, “Yeah, it’s fine, but wouldn’t you… I don’t know, rather sit with your friends?” 

Damian snorted. “You mean the rich kids who only want to know me because of my name and status? Not really. I’d much rather sit with you.” 

And that… she still didn’t know how to process that, even as she sat in her last class of the day. 

She glanced at Damian. He sat a row to her right and a few seats in front of her. She had no idea what was going on. Or what was going on inside his head. Or her own, for that matter. There were just too many thoughts and feelings swirling around from the whirlwind of the past two days that she was going to need a good long while to process all of them. If she could even process all of them. 

Seriously, she had no idea how to do that. How was she supposed to figure out what Damian Wayne was thinking? Or what his motives were? She wasn’t sure he even had any motives. From the perfect gentlemen he’d been today – or the perfect gentlemen minus the two dozen times they’d argued – it almost seemed like he didn’t have any other motive then being nice, and if _that_ was the case then she definitely didn’t know how to process that. 

The bell rang and she jumped. Scowling at nothing in particular, she started packing her stuff up again – and lo and behold, there was Damian. 

She smiled up at him and said, “Thanks for hauling all my stuff around today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

And then she stood up, fully expecting to walk past him this time, but once again he took her stuff. “I’ll give you a ride home.” 

She huffed, because honestly this was becoming insane. She was going to drown in all this niceness. “Damian, it’s fine, seriously. You’ve done enough.” 

“It’s not a problem. Your house is practically on my way home anyway,” Damian said, heading out of the room with her trailing behind him. 

“Practically being the keyword,” she said, trying to take her stuff back. 

He moved out of reach. “It’s an extra three minutes. Do you need to go to your locker?” 

“No,” she said, reaching once again for her stuff – and nearly fell when she threw her weight to far forward. He caught her, a steadying hand on her arm, just like he’d done multiple times today. And like every other time, she smothered the butterflies in her stomach. “And I can bus.” 

Damian gave her a look that said stop-being-difficult. She shot the same look right back at him. He was being just as difficult as she was. Sighing he said, “Look, I can’t force you to come with me, but it’ll be a much faster and much more pleasant ride than taking a crowded bus.” 

She glared. But only because he was right. “Fine. You can drive me.” 

He smiled, a soft one that made him look less hard and more beautiful – if that was even possible because the boy was already gorgeous – before turning back around and heading to his car. 

The ride passed in relative silence with music playing in the background, but it wasn’t awkward like the last time. It was almost… easy. Natural. She chalked it up to spending the whole day with him and the fact that she was tired. 

When they reached her house she was finally allowed to carry her own stuff. As she was getting out of the car Damian asked, “What time should I pick you up?” 

Her eyebrows bunched. “Pick me up?” 

“For school,” he clarified, looking at her expectantly. 

“Damian–” she started. 

“You let me drive you home,” he cut in. “What’s different about picking you up?” 

She opened her mouth to explain, but stopped. She couldn’t tell him that he couldn’t pick her up because her dad would freak out and beat her if he saw her get into a car with someone he didn’t know. And because she couldn’t think of any other excuse, she sighed and said, “Give me your phone.” 

He didn’t even hesitate. He just pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to her. She marveled at the trust – or stupidity in his case, most likely – that let someone just hand over their phone, before grabbing it out of his hand. Opening up his contacts she added herself and then sent a text so that she’d have his number. Handing him back his phone she said, “Any time after 8:00. Just text me when you’re here.” 

“Alright,” he said, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket. 

Tessa bit her lip. “Can you also park two blocks away? My dad’s really protective and if he saw me getting into a car with someone he’d freak.” 

It was the best she could come up with. Hopefully, it’d do. 

“Okay,” Damian said slowly. “I’ll park near the bus stop then.” 

“Thanks,” Tessa said and pushed the door open. Then she turned back around and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow,” Damian mimicked. 

She pushed herself out of the car and made sure she had all her stuff this time – shoes included – before heading up the drive as Damian pulled away. 

And she couldn’t help it – a smile stretched across her face. 

She shook her head. She was screwed. Utterly, completely screwed, because that crush she’d slowly been trying to smother was coming back in full force and she had no damn clue what she was going to do. She had a crush on Damian Wayne, and now that she was practically shoved into the same space as him, she had no doubt that his stupid green eyes were going to make her fall harder and harder. 

But as she opened the door, thinking about everything that had happened today, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was such a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo Tessa and Damian are starting to become friends. Yay. I really enjoy writing their relationship. 
> 
> On a different note, if any of you have any suggestions or scenes that you'd like to see, please leave a comment. I always love getting new ideas. So yeah, feel free to suggest things.
> 
> -Raven Queen


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim finds out who Tessa is and Damian drives Tessa to school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people here's the next chapter. This one is longer than most of the other chapters, and I really like how this one turned out, so I hope you enjoy :)

Damian sat on a roof, surveying Gotham below. After the day he’d had, with Tessa arguing with him constantly and having to smother the urge to demand she tell him who’d hurt her, he needed this. The wind in his hair. The rush of adrenaline. The mist that clung to his uniform. He needed the familiarity of Robin to drive out all his other thoughts. 

When he was Robin he was just that: Robin. Everything about him focused on the single goal of protecting as many people as he could. There was nothing else to distract him, or worry him, or make him think in ways that he knew he shouldn’t. The only thing that mattered was the criminals prowling the streets and the fact that he could do something to stop them. 

And it’d been working. He’d become so utterly focused on the fight that he hadn’t thought once about Tessa or the nagging thoughts in his head. It wasn’t until he was on this rooftop looking for the next batch of criminals to round up that the thoughts came crashing back when Red Robin drop onto the roof behind and asked, “So how’d it go with Tessa?” 

He glared. He was out here tonight to _forget_ Tessa. The last thing he wanted was to talk about her with– 

Had he said her name? 

He had. Tim had said Tessa. Damian turned fully to face him and did his best bat-glare, growling, “I thought you weren’t going to figure out who she was.” 

Tim shrugged, sitting down next to him. “I was curious.” 

That wasn’t a good enough reason. He’d specifically asked them _not_ to figure out who she was. And yes, it was partially because he didn’t want to deal with the endless teasing and maybe, just maybe, some small part of him wanted to keep her to himself, but that wasn’t why. 

Tessa didn’t like being noticed. Every time he saw her in the halls or during class she was always trying to hide. She wouldn’t answer questions unless specifically called on, and wouldn’t even talk unless she was forced to or her temper got the better of her. Then, when they were in the halls together and everyone was looking, she looked about ready to bolt from all the stares. 

He still couldn’t figure out why, but Tessa Morgan liked to be invisible. 

It was just another thing he had added to his ever-growing list of confusing things about her. He’d figure them all out eventually, starting with those bruises, but until he did he could at least respect the way she wanted to live her life. 

Having his brothers – whether they were in or out of uniform – finding out who she was and then interacting with her would be like shining the brightest spotlight on her possible. She’d hate it. 

“If you–” 

“Relax, bat brat, I won’t go find her and ask a million questions or stalk or her whatever else it is you think I’m going to do,” Tim said, rolling his eyes. “I really was just curious who she was. It takes a lot to make you actually care about someone–” Damian glared. “–and I wanted to see for myself who she was.” 

Damian still glared, debating if it was worth it to shove him off the roof. They might be better now, and he might actually consider him a brother even if he’d never say it out loud, but Tim was pushing his luck. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tim said, leveling him with a look. “If you really didn’t want us to figure out who she was you would have made it harder to find out. All I had to do was look at the school’s security feed from yesterday to see who you’d driven home. Then you drove her home again today, so really if you should be mad at anyone you should be mad at yourself for not covering your tracks better.” 

“You followed me?” Damian growled, the urge to push him off the roof increasing. Then kicked himself. He lived with a bunch of crazy, obsessive detectives. He really should have known to wipe the school’s security feed from yesterday afternoon. 

Tim rolled his eyes. “Bruce has trackers on all of you. I just hack into them every once in a while.” 

Damian made a mental note to find the tracker – or trackers, if he knew Father – and said, “Follow me again and I’ll dig your eye out with my thumbs.” 

“Gruesome, baby brat,” Tim said, and Damian growled. He hated that nickname. He wasn’t a baby, he was sixteen. “So you still didn’t tell me, how’d it go? And why did she have a cast, I thought you said you’d sprained her ankle.” 

“It went adequately,” Damian said, ignoring the cast part entirely. That was just another thing he had to figure out. Another thing he’d been trying to not think about, if only for a couple hours. 

“’Adequately.’” Tim snorted. “Who says that?” 

His hand twitched. He _really_ wanted to push Drake off the roof. 

Not that it’d really do anything. Unfortunately, he was smart enough and fast enough to catch himself before he hit the floor. 

“So her leg?” Tim asked. 

Damian frowned. He still didn’t know. He’d tried to figure out if she’d been lying or not when she said she’d fallen, but there were no feeds let him see into her house. All he could find were two separate feeds of the house, and neither of them were 360-degree views. The only thing he knew for certain was that at 8:16 pm her dad carried her out of the house and drove to the hospital. 

What happened between the time he left and that moment was a mystery. She could have fallen. She could have done something else to her ankle. Someone could have broken into the house at one of the points that he couldn’t see and done something, or she could have snuck out and hurt her ankle somewhere else, though that was unlikely because he searched the surrounding feeds and didn’t find any sign of her. 

It was all a complete mystery. There was no way to move forward other than to get the information from Tessa herself, and she didn’t seem inclined to share. He’d been banging his head against a wall all afternoon trying to think of another solution to figuring out what happened but came up with nothing. 

“Yo, Damian,” Tim said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. 

“What?” he growled, slapping his fingers away. 

Tim frowned. “What happened to her ankle?” 

“It was sprained when I last saw her yesterday, and now it is broken,” Damian said, glaring. He only gave Tim an answer because if he didn’t, he knew he wouldn’t let it go. “That is all the information that I’ve been able to acquire.” 

Tim leveled him with a flat look. “Wow, Damian, you’re turning into a really great detective.” Tim stood up and stretched, then pulled out his grappling hook. “I’ll look into it for you since you obviously have no detective skills whatsoever. If you find any _actual_ evidence, send it to me.” 

“What–” 

Before he could finish, Tim fired the grapple and jumped off the roof with a mock salute. 

Damian looked after him. He’d given Tim an answer so he _wouldn’t_ go looking for more. He didn’t need him obsessing over Tessa and doing his whole creepy stalker thing that would only scare her, but– 

Tim was going to help him. Without him asking. Without asking for anything in return. He frowned. Tim didn’t do that. _They_ didn’t do that, not with each other. The only time that they helped each other was when they were working on a case together and were forced to. 

Damian watched the bright red suit Tim wore disappear. He shook his head. He should stop this right now. Go after Drake and tell him that he didn’t need his help. If it was just another case, he probably would have, but it wasn’t just another case. It was Tessa. 

If someone was hurting her, he wanted to know now, and even if he hated to admit it Tim could get results much faster than he ever could. 

Growling Damian stood up and pulled up his hood, then launched his own line and headed in the other direction. He had some anger he needed to work off. 

\-------------------------- 

At exactly 8:00 the next morning Damian parked a block away from Tessa’s house, right next to the bus stop. Just like he’d said he would. Then he pulled out his phone and opened her contact, stared at her number for a solid ten seconds, then sent her a text saying that he was here. 

He sat there, fidgeting with the radio. It wasn’t that the music was bad – though he always did prefer classical music to the pop songs that were played on the radio – but he needed to do something with his hands. He wasn’t nervous, it was just… she’d said any time after 8:00. Did that mean that it wasn’t okay for him to be there _at_ 8:00? What time did she normally leave the house? He should have figured that out so he could arrive at the optimal time. Maybe she was the type of person who was late for everything – though he doubted that. She was always early to class. But she– 

His phone buzzed. He snatched it. 

He let out a breath when the words _be out in a minute_ displayed on his screen. Then he promptly smashed his head into the steering wheel. 

This was stupid. He was stupid. He shouldn’t be worrying about all these things. They were pointless. When she came and if he was early and waiting for any confirmation that he hadn’t screwed up before she’d arrived were stupid things to worry about. He shouldn’t be worrying about those kinds of things. 

He shouldn’t even be here at all. Why he was still escaped him. Yes, he’d offered, and yes, he’d argued with her to let him do it, but he didn’t know _why_. Every time he thought about it he couldn’t come up with an answer other than he had wanted to. He had wanted to drive her around and spend more time with her. 

Because yesterday… it’d been nice. Spending the day with her had been nice. It’d made school more bearable and quite a bit less boring. She kept him on his toes, spitting insults right back at him and calling him out when he was wrong. It was refreshing. He’d become so used to everyone at school mindlessly agreeing with him. It was nice to finally be able to have an actual conversation, even if most of them were arguments. 

And he liked arguing with Tessa. It was the only time that she wasn’t watching her words, and that spark that she got in her eye was– 

“Morning,” Tessa said, opening the front door and sliding in. She shoved her crutches into the backseat. 

“Good morning,” he said with a cough. He shoved a hand through his hair, trying to shove done the embarrassment that was crawling up his neck. He shouldn’t be embarrassed. It wasn’t like he’d been thinking anything bad. 

He watched Tessa put her backpack at her feet, carefully keeping it away from the cast, then buckle up. When the seatbelt clicked into place she looked at him and said, “Ready.” 

And because he didn’t know how to answer that, he pulled onto the street and headed towards school. 

The music was the only thing that cut the silence. He stomach felt jittery. Was he supposed to say something? He wasn’t good at small talk. Or talking in general, really. What were the things Dick liked to ask him in the morning? Something about breakfast, and usually how he slept, but that didn’t seem like something that he should ask Tessa. Maybe he should ask her something about school instead? 

He fiddled with the radio again, flipping from station to station without really registering what songs were playing. They all sounded the same anyway. And it gave him something to do instead of just sitting in the silence and trying to– 

He felt a sharp smack on his hand. He blinked and looked at Tessa, who was glaring at him. She’d smacked his hand. She’d actually smacked his hand. 

“Stop fidgeting with the radio and drive,” she said, spinning the radio dial herself. “I’d prefer not to have another broken bone.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of multi-tasking,” Damian grumbled, but the uneasiness in his stomach was going away a bit. 

Tessa snorted. “Tell that to the stop sign you ran through.” 

Damian frowned. He hadn’t run through a stop sign. He’d never done that in his life. He was a very safe driver. He’d learned when he was eight. He knew every rule and regulation and obeyed all of them when it wasn’t a life and death situation. There was no way he’d run through a stop sign. 

He couldn’t have been that distracted. Right? 

Tessa finally stopped spinning the dial, landing on a station that was playing _Say Something_. The only reason he even knew the song was because both Dick and Steph had been obsessed with it and hadn’t stopped playing it for a week. He was pretty sure he’d broken one of the speakers that week. 

A small smile lit up her face when she heard the song, and for a solid five seconds he was stuck staring at her. Then he blinked and snapped his head forward. He was pretty sure that Tessa would smack him again if she found him staring at her and not the road. 

Ten minutes later he pulled into the school parking lot without crashing the car. He parked in his usual spot, right near the exit, then slipped out of the car and around it, opened the backseat, and pulled out Tessa’s crutches. Then he opened her door and offered her a hand. 

She looked up at him, shock written across her face. He tried not to look hurt. Had she really thought that he wouldn’t help her? 

The shock turned to annoyance as she grumbled, “How did you get around the car, grab your backpack and my crutches, then open my door all in the time it took me to unbuckle my seatbelt?” 

“Maybe you’re just slow,” Damian teased. 

She glared, but it wasn’t as sharp as normal. “Maybe you’re just a ninja.” 

He snorted. If only she knew how close to the truth she was. 

She ignored his hand and stood up, using the car as her balance instead of him. He rolled his eyes. He really shouldn’t have expected her to let him help. 

Before she could argue he took her backpack and slung it across his shoulders while she was occupied with settling the crutches under her arms. It wasn’t until she looked back in the car and didn’t see it that she turned on him and said, “I can carry my own backpack, Damian.” 

“I know you can,” he said, because she could. He had no doubt that she could do all of this on her own. “You just don’t have to.” 

She frowned. Then she gave him a once over and said, “If you break anything, you’re replacing it.” 

“I think I can do that,” he said, then started to head towards the school. 

The flow in and out seemed to have stopped, leaving everyone staring directly at them. He felt Tessa tense beside him. His anger flared, and he turned his harshest glare on the crowd. They scattered. He was pretty sure he even saw someone trip over their own feet. 

He felt Tessa relax beside him. 

“I need to go to my locker,” he said, if only to break the silence. 

“Me too,” she said, glancing at him. He tried not to tense up at that look. 

“I’ll meet you at yours,” he said, adjusting her bag on his shoulder. “It’s on the way to yours so it’ll be easier.” 

“Okay,” she said, and that was that. 

They did exactly that. When he turned off to his locker he handed Tessa her bag. Then he went to his locker, took out the books he’d need for the first half of the day, and then walked over to hers, where he took whatever books she needed. Then they walked to class, he put her stuff down at her seat, walked over to his own seat, then rinsed and repeated for all the other classes. 

Only he felt himself start to stare at her during class again. He’d done it at the beginning of the year, when he’d been trying to figure her out, but had given up when she’d glared at him across the room with a look that definitely said _leave me alone_. He’d started looking at her again after they’d started competing against each other in every class, but not _this_ much. Not to the point that he barely even looked at the teacher. 

He just couldn’t help it. She was like a magnet and he couldn’t drag his eyes away. Every time he’d try his eyes would just slowly drift back. By the time the bell rang for lunch, he’d given up trying to look away entirely. 

They were walking through the halls now, back towards their lockers now that it was lunch, and he still found himself looking at her. She’d caught him a couple times, given him a look that most likely translated to _what the fuck_ , then looked back at the teacher and continued to pay attention to the lesson. 

She glanced at him now, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “Is there something on my face?” 

His first instinct was to reply _nothing but freckles_. Then he shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? “No.” 

She gave him a weird look, but before she could ask whatever question she was obviously going to he veered off and went to his locker. He took one long, steady breath. He really needed to get a grip. 

Taking another steadying breath he grabbed everything he needed and then walked over to her locker. She had her bag in front of her, balanced on her cast, and shoved in a book and a binder. He reached her and asked, “Any books you want me to carry?” 

“They’re in my bag,” she said, zipping it up and then shoving it at him a little too hard. 

He wasn’t sure if she’d done it because she was mad at something specific he’d done or just mad at him in general for being helpful. He would have asked, but he had a feeling that’d only make her more mad at him, so instead he kept his mouth shut and slung her backpack onto his shoulder. 

“Library again?” he asked, falling into step beside her. 

“Yeah,” she said, then glanced at him. “You eating with me again?” 

He looked at her. There was a bite in her voice. She was annoyed with him. Damian swallowed and said, “If that’s okay with you.” 

Because he wanted to eat with her. Even if they hadn’t talked yesterday and all she’d done the entire time was give him weird looks, it was better than being swarmed by the rich kids who thought they were his friends. With her, he didn’t feel the need to smash people’s heads together. 

But if she didn’t want him to eat with her, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t force her to be around him or invade her space. If she wanted to eat by herself then he’d let her, even if he didn’t want to. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Tessa said. He couldn’t help but notice that there was less of a bite this time. 

So they walked into the library and sat down at an empty table, pulled out their homework, and ate their lunch in silence. 

Really, this was a better use of his lunch hours. It never took him long to finish his homework – most of it was beyond easy – but doing it now let him have more time after school to learn the things he actually wanted and to be Robin. If he did his homework at school there was no way for Father to bench him for not doing it. 

And it was nice, to just be able to sit in silence with someone. He hadn’t been able to do that with anyone but Cass, mostly because the rest of his family was either too loud or too annoying to allow them to do it. So sitting here with Tessa in silence, even if it wasn’t the easiest one in existence, was nice. 

He glanced up at her to find her frowning down at whatever she was working on, her eyebrows furrowed and chewing on her lip. His stomach flipped. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like she was doing anything weird, she was just working on something. 

Something that she was having trouble with, if the crossed out markings on the paper were any indication. 

She huffed and crossed out yet another try, her face twisting in annoyance. Then she started again, methodically trying to solve what looked like a math problem, before crossing it out yet again with enough force that he could hear the marks being made on the paper. 

He cleared his throat and asked, “Do you want some help?” 

“Not from you,” she said without hesitation. She didn’t even look up. 

He frowned. “What does that mean?” 

“It means I don’t want your help,” she said. She still didn’t look at him. 

Anger sparked through in his veins and he snapped, “But you’d accept help from someone else?” 

“Probably,” she said, then huffed and crossed out another try. 

He shook his head. He didn’t get it. She obviously didn’t understand what she was doing and needed some kind of help to understand, but she didn’t want his help. Just his. For some reason, his help was a bad thing. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” she grumbled, working through the problem again. 

“Why don’t you want my help?” Damian asked, because he didn’t get it. He really didn’t. He could help. He was good at math, had been doing advanced versions of it since he was seven. Whatever it was she was doing he could help her understand it. 

She slammed her pencil down, turning flashing gray eyes to meet his. “I don’t want your help, Damian, because you’re just going to rub it in my face how much smarter you are than me yet again, and I don’t really feel like dealing with that right now.” 

He looked into her eyes and frowned. “I wouldn’t.” 

She huffed a laugh. “I don’t believe you.” 

Their eyes clashed. He couldn’t help but think how pretty her eyes looked when she was angry. But he didn’t want her to be angry. And he didn’t want her to think that he’d rub it in her face that she needed help. He wouldn’t do that. 

But she believed it. She thought that he’d do it. 

“Why would you think I’d do that?” he asked, because he didn’t get it. _Again_. And he hated it. 

She gave him a look that was pretty much how-stupid-are-you and asked, “You really don’t know?” 

“No, I don’t,” he said, crossing his arms. 

“Alright, let me recap for you then,” she said, tilting her head. “Two months ago, you came to my locker because I’d beaten you on a history test, then proceeded to call me an idiot and said that there was no way that I could ever beat you because you’re super smart and I’m stupid in comparison and that my beating you was a fluke. Remember that, Damian?” 

His heart sank. He did remember that. Remembered that he’d said those things. He nodded numbly. 

“Then,” she continued, her words becoming biting, “for the following two months you’d rub it in my face whenever you beat me on any test or project. Every. Single. Time. You’d look at me with a smirk on your face that told me just how superior that you thought you were, rubbing it in my face that you had beat me yet again. Remember that, Damian?” 

“You did it back,” he said weakly. 

“Because you did it first,” she said, voice tight with anger. “Because you would rub it in my face when you beat me so I did it right back. Besides, I only beat you, what? Four times? Five? How many times did you beat me, Damian? How many times did you rub it in my face?” 

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know. Dozens, at least. 

He hadn’t realized. Hadn’t realized that he’d been acting like an asshole. He hadn’t meant to. Well, maybe in the beginning he had, but somewhere in the middle he’d stopped wanting to rub it in her face. Somewhere in the middle he’d started to enjoy competing with her and had been trying to do it in good humor. He hadn’t realized that she’d thought he’d been rubbing it in her face the entire time. That she’d thought he’d been showing her how much of an idiot she thought he perceived her as. 

He didn’t think she was stupid. Far from it. He thought she was insanely smart. If he wasn’t in her grade he had no doubt that she’d be top of the class. She was smarter than anyone else in this school. 

He hadn’t meant to make her think that she was stupid. 

Damian looked at her, but she was no longer looking at him. She was working on that problem again as if nothing had happened. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “What?” 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, because he truly was. “I didn’t realize that was the way I was making you feel. I hadn’t meant it in that way.” 

She frowned. “In what way did you mean it then?” 

“In a friendly way,” he said. 

She frowned harder. “We’re not friends, Damian.” 

“I know,” he said, voice rough. 

“Then why would you think I’d take it in a friendly way?” 

He shook his head. He didn’t know. 

God, he was such an _idiot_. This was a mess. He was a mess. For months he’d been messing up and hadn’t even realized it. Tessa practically hated him. No wonder she barely tolerated him. No wonder she didn’t want him carrying around her stuff and driving her home. They weren’t friends. He’d been an asshole. She had every right to hate him. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I was wrong. I should have realized what I was doing wouldn’t be taken the way I thought it’d be. It wasn’t my intention to call you stupid, because I don’t think that. You’re really smart, Tessa. I hope you know that. You–” 

“I do know I’m smart,” Tessa interrupted, jutting her chin up. “I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me that.” 

“Good,” he said, his stomach loosening slightly. 

Silently he stood up, slinging his backpack across his shoulders. She didn’t want him here. She was too nice to say it, but he could see it now. He’d been intruding, so he’d leave. It was the least he owed her. He picked up his books and turned to leave. 

“Sit.” 

He frowned, looking at her, but she looked steadily back at him and repeated, “Sit down.” 

He did, but didn’t take his backpack off. She was probably just going to tell him off and then make him leave. There was no point in taking it off. 

But she rolled her eyes and said, “I still need help with this problem.” 

He blinked. 

And then he smiled, nothing more than a twitch of his lips, but the happiness that burst in his chest was all too real. 

Because that wasn’t forgiveness, not in the slightest, but it was an olive branch. It was an offering that said that he hadn’t screwed up entirely, so he leaned closer to her and helped her work through the problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you thought in the comments. I always love hearing them and they make my day, so if you have anything to say drop it there and I promise to send you a reply!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and Damian realize different things about each other.

It’d been a week since Damian had started driving her to school, and Tessa could honestly say that he wasn’t as much of an asshole as she thought he was. 

She still couldn’t quite believe that he’d apologized after she’d called him on insulting her. Damian Wayne apologizing? She’d never even heard of it, and she’d seen him do many things he should have apologized for before. Yet he’d apologized to her. Without her even asking for an apology. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. 

She also couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea that Damian had somehow thought that their competition had been friendly. Sure, she’d had fun with it and it’d helped her push herself, but that didn’t mean it was all in good fun. She’d been trying to kick his ass and prove that he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. He’d been rubbing it in her face how smart he was. Those weren’t really friendly things. 

Or at least they hadn’t been. 

Somehow, over the past week, they’d still been competing. Still been smirking and making fun of the other when they lost. And somehow, it no longer stung or felt like an insult. Somehow, it really did seem like a friendly competition. 

Maybe it was the fact that he’d help her when she didn’t understand something. Maybe it was because they’d been spending all their time together. Maybe it was that they’d started to talk about things other than school. She didn’t know. All she knew was that over that past week she’d started to like Damian more and more. 

Tessa shook her head as she walked towards his car. She really needed to stop this. Stop letting Damian closer. Stop starting to consider him a friend. The path that lead down wouldn’t be a good one. 

She reached his car, rolling her eyes at how nice it was. Even on her block, one of the nicest in all of Gotham, it still looked out of place. She pulled the door open and slid in, shoving her crutches into the back like she always did and then smiled at Damian and said, “Hey.” “Hey,” he said, and she expected him to buckle up, start the car, and then pull out of his parking space and head towards school just like he did every morning. Instead he handed her something wrapped in a napkin and said, “Here.” 

She frowned and took it. Had he gotten her a present? Why would he get her a present? 

“It’s not going to bite,” Damian said, starting the car and heading towards school. 

She glared at him. “I know that.” 

And just to prove it, she unfolded the napkin. 

She blinked down at the pastry that she found. “What is this?” 

“A cinnamon sticky bun.” 

She shook her head. “No, I mean what am I supposed to do with this?” 

She didn’t understand. Was she supposed to hold it for him? Couldn’t he, you know, maybe just put it down somewhere? She didn’t really want to hold his breakfast for him. 

“Usually, when people get handed food, they eat it,” Damian said, a half-smile on his face. The one he got when he was trying not to laugh at her. 

She would have given him a _no-duh_ look, but her brain was stuck on the fact that Damian had handed her food and was now implying that she should eat it. Except that couldn’t be right. There was no way that he’d brought her food. 

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. 

This time she did glare. “I know that, I just don’t get why you gave it to me.” 

Damian coughed. It was his one tell, the one that said he was nervous. Why was he nervous? He coughed again and said, “Well, you mentioned yesterday that you don’t eat breakfast and I might have accidently mentioned it to Alfred, who thought it was unacceptable, so he made me bring this for you.” 

She stared. Her mouth actually popped open. That’s how shocked she was, because he actually remembered an offhand comment she’d made yesterday about not eating breakfast, and then his butler had made her food for him to give to her. 

It was ridiculous. Just thinking that sentence in her head sounded ridiculous. 

“If you don’t like it you don’t have to eat it,” Damian said quickly, when she still hadn’t taken a bite. “It’s just what we had for breakfast this morning cause Dick was home and he has the biggest sweet tooth in existence. If it’s not what you like I can bring something different tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” she asked, staring at him. 

“Well, yeah,” he said and coughed again. “You’re not planning to start eating breakfast tomorrow, are you?” 

She shook her head. 

“Then yeah, tomorrow,” Damian said. “I’m pretty sure Alfred would murder me if I didn’t.” 

Tessa couldn’t help it. She smiled. It stretched across her face, completely out of control, until she was grinning stupidly at the pastry she was holding in her hand. 

Damian had brought her food. And he was going to keep bringing her food, because Alfred wanted to feed her because Damian had said she didn’t eat breakfast. Because they thought it was important. Because they cared. Warmth bloomed in her chest. 

“This is perfect,” Tessa said, and to prove her point she took a bite. 

And _holy shit_ it was delicious. It was perfectly sticky and sweet and fluffy and everything that a sticky bun should be. She was pretty sure that if she died right now she’d be happy from just eating this right now. 

She must have made a face, because Damian laughed softly and said, “Alfred’s the best cook ever. Pretty much everything he makes is delicious, but if you have any requests I’m sure he’d be more than happy to make something specific.” 

“I don’t care what he makes,” Tessa said around a mouthful of food, because screw manners she needed to have as much of this in her mouth as possible. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” 

“I’ll tell him that,” Damian said, still smiling. 

Yup, she could definitely die happy right now. With the pastry from heaven and Damian smiling like that, his perfect green eyes on her, she could definitely die happy. 

\----------------------------- 

It was day eleven into their whole hang-out-all-day-and-argue routine, and Tessa was staring at her phone, a text written out on her screen, and her thumb hovering over the send button. All she had to do was push it. It really shouldn’t be that hard. Yet here she was, seven minutes later, still staring at the send button she hadn’t pushed. 

She groaned. Really, it was one stupid text she was going to send to Damian. She’d been exhausted this morning since she hadn’t gotten any sleep due to her dad banging on her door and screaming curse words at her until three in the morning, and had forgotten to write down the English homework. She was _pretty_ sure that they were supposed to do the worksheet and read the next two chapters of the book, but for some reason it just didn’t sound right. 

So she’d pulled out her phone to ask Damian, except she couldn’t send the stupid text because they didn’t text and it felt like she was crossing some invisible line that she couldn’t uncross if she sent a stupid text. Like if she sent it they would actually be friends. 

Because Damian sure felt like a friend, and that… she couldn’t handle it. The last friends she had had left her and then mocked her for doing it. They’d been shit, and hadn’t realized what the hell was happening to her, and if Damian became her friend– what would keep him from leaving too? At least this way, if he wasn’t her friend, he couldn’t leave. This way he hadn’t been there to leave in the first place. 

And maybe it was backwards and wrong and twisted in too many ways to count, but she couldn’t help it. 

So here she was. Sitting in her room. Staring at her phone. Debating if she should send a text or not. God, she felt like she was eleven again and was debating on whether or not she should text her crush. 

Not that that was too far off. Another annoying, ridiculous thing that had happened this past week and a half was that her crush for Damian came back in full force. Now that he wasn’t being an annoying asshole and was actually being nice, it was becoming a lot harder to hate him and a lot harder to ignore the way he made her heart skip a beat when he gave her one of those half smiles. 

She groaned and threw her phone beside her. This was ridiculous. She shouldn’t have a crush on him. He was Damian Wayne. He was basically a celebrity, and smart, and beautiful, and even if he was being nice to her right now there was no reason that said that it would last. And besides, there was no way that someone like him would like someone like her. Not in that way. Having a crush on him was pointless. 

If only her heart would listen. 

She grabbed a pillow to scream into, but before she could her phone dinged beside her. 

Her heart stopped. No. No, no, no, no, no– 

She picked up her phone and found a text from Damian Wayne lighting up her screen. 

Damian: It’s the worksheet she assigned in class, the next two chapters, and to look up and read the poem Fire and Ice by Robert Frost. 

She unlocked her phone and found her text sent. Shit. It must have sent when she’d thrown her phone. She’d texted Damian. And he’d texted her back. God, that was what friends did. Friends texted each other about homework. Friends drove each other to school. Friends argued with each other. Friends brought each other food. 

She was friends with Damian Wayne. 

A laugh slipped out of her lips, slightly manic. She was friends with Damian. It was ridiculous. Out of everyone, _she_ had managed to become friends with Damian Wayne. God, that was terrifying. This whole thing was terrifying. Being friends, being friends with someone as important as him. Just… it was strange. And she loved it. 

Still smiling she texted him back. 

Tessa: thank you 

\-------------------------- 

Damian stared at his phone. He’d been out on patrol and felt his phone buzz while he was flipping through the air, and because no one but his family texted him he’d pulled out his phone expecting to see someone needing help, but instead found Tessa’s name on his screen asking about English homework. 

He’d nearly dropped his phone. And then he reread the message. Four times. Mostly because he expected it to disappear, but no. It was there. Tessa had actually texted him. 

So he texted her back, listing off the English homework, and tried not to read into the text too much. Or he would have, if his phone hadn’t suddenly been plucked from his hand. 

Damian turned, face burning even as anger surged through his face, because one of his siblings had just stolen his phone and he didn’t want him reading his texts with Tessa. Not that they were exciting. Or embarrassing. It mainly consisted of them trading locations and timeframes, so really there was nothing there but having his siblings reading his texts was _not_ something he wanted to happen. 

He was fully prepared to punch whoever had taken his phone when he came face to face with Cass, face scrunched up as she scrolled through his phones. 

His shoulders relaxed. Cass could look at his phone. She was about the only one he’d trusted with Tessa, since he’d been so freaked out about their conversation last week and how he’d messed up that he’d had to talk to someone, and Cass was the best option. She at least wouldn’t tell the others, and she was a girl, so that had to count for something, right? 

“She texted you,” Cass said, head tilted to the side. 

“Yeah, I know,” Damian said, resisting the urge to snatch his phone back. 

“That is good,” Cass said, a small smile on her face. 

“Really?” Damian asked. He hated how hopeful he sounded. 

“Yes,” Cass said. “Friends text each other outside of school.” His phone buzzed, and he felt his heart leap. Cass read the text and then tossed his phone back. “She says ‘thank you’.” 

She had said thank you. He tried not to feel overly happy about the fact. He failed miserably. 

“Should I say something back?” Damian asked, because he really didn’t know. He sucked at talking. Texting was better, his words always came out better when written, but it was still awkward. He still had no idea what he was doing. He looked up at Cass. 

She rolled her eyes. “Stop over thinking, little brother.” 

He glared, mostly because he knew she was right. 

Cass rolled her eyes again and walked over to ledge. She tapped her chest, right over her heart, then jumped off the edge into open air. A second later he saw a line fire and the Black Bat swinging to the next roof. 

Damian frowned. She said to use his heart, but he didn’t know _how_. His heart was the problem. It was doing weird things to his body and clouding his thoughts and making everything so much more difficult. Why would he listen to his heart? His heart didn’t make any sense. 

Glaring at nothing in particular Damian jumped off the building. For three seconds he let himself fall, nothing but the wind surrounding him. Then he fired his grapple and the solid pull of it caught him before he hit the ground, swinging him back up into the air. 

He hit the next roof running, and kept running, even as he tapped his ear and said, “Red Robin, what’s your location?” 

“None of your business,” Tim said, breathing heavy. So he was in the middle of a fight. 

“I have something I need to talk to you about,” Damian said, running in the direction where Tim should be at this point in patrol, but if he was mid-fight then he’s most likely off his path. 

“Can it wait?” Tim grumbled, followed by a groan that wasn’t his. “I’m a little busy.” 

Damian was about to snap back that they were all busy when he spotted the horrid bright red outfit that Tim insisted on wearing. Really, it did nothing for him. The red made it nearly impossible to blend into his surroundings. 

Damian hit a button on his line and it retracted, letting him free fall into the fight below. 

He landed on a criminal’s head, smashing him into the floor then giving him a quick kick in the head to make sure he stayed down. With a vicious smile Damian said, “Red.” 

Tim punched a criminal in the face. 

Damian just grinned and round-house kicked someone in the gut. 

Two minutes later all the perps were zip-tied together, a majority of them unconscious and the rest of them groaning. Damian had half a mind to pull his sword out and really give them something to groan about, but Tim leveled him with a look and said, “What do you want, Robin?” 

Damian clicked off his comms, then gave Tim a look. Tim rolled his eyes but turned his off. 

“I want to know if you’d found out anything about Tessa,” Damian said. “And if you’re the one who told the others who she was.” 

“That wasn’t me, Hood figured that out all on his own then went straight to Nightwing,” Tim said, then shot his grapple and pulled himself up to the roof. 

Damian did the same, landing on the roof smoothly. “And Tessa?” 

“Nothing,” Tim said, pushing off his cowl and shoving a hand through his hair. “I’ve done everything I could to see into her house on the night she broke her leg, but no matter how much I try to fix the feed it’s still to blurry to see. The only facts I know are that at 7:58 her dad came home, and then at 8:16 he carried her out of the house. Presumably, whatever happened would be in those eighteen minutes, since I doubt her dad would be that oblivious to his daughter breaking her leg for nearly twenty minutes before taking her to a hospital. Besides that, I’ve got nothing. The surrounding feeds show nothing. If someone did do it to her, they’re good.” 

Damian growled. That wasn’t helpful. “What about the reports from the hospital? Do they say anything out of the ordinary?” 

“No,” Tim said, shoving his hand through his hair again. A tick, one that Drake did when he was thinking through a problem that he was having trouble solving. “Everything on their lines up with her story of falling down the stairs. There’s nothing on there that indicates that it was anything but that.” 

His eyes narrowed. “You do believe me, don’t you, Drake?” 

Because his voice when he’d said that sounded like he was questioning if something else had actually happened. And it did. Something had happened. Tessa hadn’t just fallen down the stairs and broken her ankle. She didn’t bang into walls and get bruises. Someone was hurting her, and if Drake was going to suggest otherwise Damian was going to break his nose. 

“I believe you,” Tim said, sighing. “It’s just that there’s no way to figure out if something else happened. Has she gotten any new injuries?” 

“A bruise on her upper arm,” Damian said, fists clenching. He’d noticed it today, when he’d been dropping her off. Her sleeve had pushed up and a yellow bruise had been staring back at him. It’d taken all his self-control not to grab her and demand to know where she’d gotten it. “It looked a day or two old.” 

“I’ll see if I can find anything that leads to that,” Tim said, pulling his cowl back on. “If she gets any new injuries, tell me. If we can’t find anything within the next three days, we’ll plant cameras and mics on her so we can figure out what’s going on.” 

Then Tim clicked his comms back on and ran across the rood, taking a leaping jump onto the next one. 

Damian should do the same. He still had another hour before Father would make him go home. He should hit the streets and stop robberies and muggings and murders, but instead he found himself heading across the city to the one part of town that they only ever did a preliminary run over. 

Tessa’s house came into view twenty minutes later. It was big – too big for her. They didn’t talk about it, but he knew that her dad wasn’t around much. She hadn’t said it explicitly, and he doubted she ever would, but he knew. It was in the way she talked about what she was making for dinner and how she had to do more than just chores and the way she didn’t talk about him much. The only time she ever had was when she’d asked him to park a block away so that he wouldn’t see her get into someone else’s car. 

He perched on the house opposite hers, blending into the shadows. There wasn’t a car parked in front, like there was in the morning. He frowned. Her dad still wasn’t home. It was nearly midnight. Either he worked super late nights at the office or this was a rare occurrence where he was out doing something. Mentally Damian added these facts to his list of ever growing things to figure out about Tessa. 

Tessa, who was curled up on the couch that was pushed against her window in her room, a book in her lap and the soft light from a lamp illuminating her. 

His heart lurched. For a moment all he could do was stare. She looked… beautiful. That was the only word that he could use. With the soft light making her hair look like silk, the way the shadows danced across her face, the way she was so focused on her book that she was pulling it closer like she wanted to fall into it, she looked beautiful. 

He blanched. 

No. There was no way. He couldn’t… couldn’t have a _crush_ on her. 

But Damian looked at her again, and his stomach did that stupid flip it did when he looked at her. And god, he liked her. He had a crush on her. That was why he’d had all those weird feelings regarding her. 

He buried his face in his hands, leaning back against a chimney. This was awful. This was the worst thing that could happen to him. He was Damian Wayne. He was an ex-assassin with blood on his hands. He was Robin. He didn’t get _crushes_ on people. He couldn’t. It’d only jeopardize the mission. 

But now that he’d finally thought it, the thought that’d been lurking at the back of his mind for months now, he couldn’t make it go away. It was out there now, and he had _no idea_ what he was supposed to do next. 

Damian stood up, body buzzing. He had to move. To run. To get adrenaline coursing through his veins and blood roaring in his ears until all his thoughts had drained away and the world became nothing but what was directly in front of him. 

He fired a line, silently vaulting off the roof and back into the Gotham night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello people, I hope you liked this chapter. I've decided I'm only going to do end notes so you can just read the chap, so yeah. I personally really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I enjoyed writing the next one even more, so I hope you like this one and are excited for the next one cause it's a jumble of batfam chaos that I had so much fun writing.
> 
> Also, thank you so much to everyone who commented. I opened my email last night to find 5 comments on this story and I just fucking smiled at my computer so hard that my best friend gave me one of her are-you-crazy looks, so thank you so much to those people and the two other who commented last chapter, and the other I don't even know how many who've commented on past ones. They seriously make my day. 
> 
> So yeah, a big thank you to everyone who's supporting this story. It makes me want to write and work on it even more. I write these stories as much for myself as I do for everyone else, so knowing that there's people who like it and read it makes me so happy.
> 
> -Samantha Morrigan


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BatFam family figure out who Tessa is.

Damian woke up the next morning supremely glad that it was Saturday. If it was Saturday then he had the whole weekend to deal with his crush – his stupid, pointless, wonderful crush – on Tessa before he actually had to see her. 

He groaned and shoved a pillow over his head. He didn’t even want to imagine how he’d act if he had to go pick her up this morning. He barely knew how to act as it was, and now that he had a goddamn crush on her he was pretty sure he’d fuck up more than he already did. If that was even possible. He wasn’t sure if that was at this point. 

Sure, they’d been talking more and arguing less, and they’d been texting. A lot. They’d texted so much a couple nights that they hadn’t realized how late it was until one of them glanced at a clock and found it to read two in the morning. He liked those nights. Even when they didn’t stay up late to text, it was still nice when it was just casual. It felt… normal. To talk to her. And they talked about everything, and most of it was completely pointless, and he loved it. 

But then there’d be times when Tessa would completely freeze up and glare at him and shut him out. He kept trying to figure out what he’d done wrong, but every damn time it’d been when he was being _nice_. How could she be mad at him for being nice? It didn’t make sense. 

Though that seemed to be a running theme with her, as nothing she ever did made sense. It was like she was a puzzle except all the pieces were from different puzzles. Every time he thought he was finally figuring her out the puzzle changed and the picture was completely different. 

That was the person he had a crush on. He couldn’t have picked someone normal and easy to figure out, he had to pick someone who routinely tried to shut him out and made no sense whatsoever. 

A small smile curved across his lips. As much as it made him mad, he couldn’t help but like her anyway. Maybe that was _why_ he liked her. Because she wasn’t easy. Because she didn’t just let him get away with things. Because she made him work. Easy was boring. No wonder he’d fallen for someone who was so the opposite of easy that he barely had any idea where he stood with her. 

He groaned into his pillow. He had to actually figure that out now. Where he stood with her. He’d been putting it off to give her space but now that he liked her – and admitted it – he had to figure it out. How did he even do that? He had no idea where to start. Maybe he should– 

“Master Damian, breakfast is– what are you doing, my dear boy?” 

Damian closed his eyes, forcing back another groan as his face flushed red. Thank god the pillow was over his face. 

Voice muffled by the pillow he said, “Sleeping.” 

“That is not how you sleep, Master Damian,” Alfred said, amusement in his voice. Damian glared at him through the pillow. He could sleep like this if he wanted to. Sure, it wasn’t how he normally slept, but maybe he was trying something new. Alfred didn’t know that. “Is something the matter?” 

“No,” he said. He was _not_ going to talk to Alfred, who was practically his grandfather, about how he had a crush on someone. You couldn’t pay him money to do that, especially since it’d be asking for help, and he _hated_ asking for help. 

The bed dipped and Damian felt Alfred’s hand on his shoulder. He hated how much better he felt from the touch alone. “You can talk to me, Master Damian. I promise I won’t tell the others.” 

For one second, Damian actually considered telling Alfred. Then he ruthlessly shoved the idea away. Alfred might not tell anyone, but talking to his grandfather about how he had a crush and had no idea what to do was something he _never_ planned to do. 

Damian took the pillow off his face, hoping that it was no longer red, and forced a smile to appear. “I’m fine, Alfred. Promise.” 

“Well then, breakfast is ready and I expect you downstairs within the next five minutes,” he said, standing up. He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob, and said, “And if you ever change your mind and wish to talk about Miss Tessa, I’ll be right, Master Damian.” 

Before Damian could respond, Alfred had closed the door. 

He groaned and shoved the pillow back over his head, face burning. 

Did everyone know about Tessa? The only person he’d told was Cass, but she wouldn’t tell anyone else. Besides Alfred, she was the only trustworthy person in the entire family, and unlike Alfred knew all of her siblings’ secrets, mostly because there were some things you couldn’t tell your grandfather-figure. Like this. Damian had barely been able to tell Cass about Tessa in the first place, and that was when he was still denying his crush on her. 

And he had been denying it. For months. Since the first day of school, really. 

That wasn’t the point. The point was that Alfred knew about Tessa, and that meant someone told him. Cass knew, and so did Tim, and even though he’d normally suspect Tim he didn’t think he’d done it this time, if only because he’d been the first to know and no one else had found out directly after that. 

Jason found out last night – a fact that he was going to beat him into not acting on very soon – which meant that most likely it was Jason who told Alfred. His fists tightened. It made sense. Jason had told Dick, and since Jason talked to Alfred about everything he probably loved sharing that fact with him. He could just see the stupid smile on his face. He was going to break his nose when he saw him. 

So far, he knew for certain that Cass, Tim, Jason, Dick, and Alfred knew about Tessa. At this point, Steph and Babs probably did too. Jason had a big mouth, and he liked to gossip with Steph, so it stood to reason that she knew. Dick, on the other hand, confided everything to Babs, so he had no doubt that as soon as Dick found out he’d called Babs and over-exaggerated whatever Jason had told him. 

That meant the only person who _didn’t_ know – and Damian hoped that this was true – was Father. 

If Father knew, Damian was going to take his katana and shove it into someone’s leg. Repetitively. 

Though he had no misconceptions that Father would soon know, one way or another. Secrets didn’t last long in his family. Quite honestly he was surprised he’d kept Tessa’s identity a secret for this long. He’d thought he’d barely last a week, but it’d been over a month. 

The only highlight was that none of his family knew that he had a crush on her. Or… no, they definitely did. Jason definitely thought that the first time he’d mentioned Tessa, and no doubt had totally everyone else that. So his entire family knew who he had a crush on. 

He hated his life. 

Sighing Damian stood up. Alfred had said five minutes, and as much as he didn’t want to go have breakfast with whatever members of his family were home, he also didn’t want Alfred to give him that disappointed look that made him feel about three inches tall so he padded down the stairs, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. 

He entered the dining room, taking one long look at his entire family sitting there, all with shit-eating grins on their faces, and decided that today was going to be a horrible day. 

If he hadn’t been trained to hide his emotions, he probably would have stopped in his tracks and stared at everyone with wide eyes. Instead, he repressed both a sigh and sat down in his seat, grabbed the bowl of fruit salad, and dumped a quarter of it onto his plate without a word to anyone else in his family. 

And when he said family, he meant everyone. Father was at the head reading the newspaper, with Alfred to his right and Dick to his left. Tim, Steph, and Cass were at the other end of the table, talking and laughing. Babs was across from Dick, looking exhausted as she took a long drink of coffee. Even Jason was there, between Steph and Babs, looking way too chipper for nine o’clock in the morning, and Jason was never home. The only time he was there were the rare times he needed the cave, the even rarer times he helped them, and the times Dick and Alfred forced him to participate in family events. 

As far as he knew, there wasn’t some family bonding time planned for today. Which meant that everyone was here because they’d heard about Tessa. 

He stabbed a grape a little too hard. 

Father looked up from his newspaper, his mug halfway to his mouth. Damian didn’t meet his questioning look. Instead, he shoved the grape in his mouth and tried not to chew angrily. 

Father didn’t know. That was evident in the way he hadn’t looked up when he walked in. Damian stabbed a strawberry. He hadn’t joined in on the grins or the secret looks that everyone had sent him, which meant that even though Father was the world’s greatest detective he was once again the last to know something when it came to his family. 

It also meant that his siblings held all the power. They were dangling the information above the table and Damian could just _see_ it getting lower and lower as each second passed, a bomb they were waiting to detonate. And it would be a bomb. All his siblings would start screaming and asking questions and talking over each other, and Father… Father would listen to all of it and then use his world’s greatest detective title to find out everything there was about Tessa, then probably stalk her himself, no doubt all his siblings trailing after him like ducklings. 

“Sooooo,” Jason started, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Shut it, Todd,” Damian growled, stabbing another piece of fruit. 

He couldn’t prevent it. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that. One way or another, Father was going to find out about Tessa this morning, but that didn’t mean he could try to prevent it for as long as he could. 

“Come on, Dami, don’t be like that,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. Then he gave him a look that made Damian’s blood boil. “You didn’t even know what I was going to say.” 

“I said,” Damian said between gritted teeth, “shut it.” 

“You’re no fun,” Jason pouted, leaning forward. “Steph, tell him he’s no fun.” 

“You’re no fun,” Steph said, and Damian glared. “We could have been asking you about one of your dear pets and you just shut us down. Really, Damian, you should be more open-minded.” 

Damian glared harder, fighting down the urge to throw his fork at one of their heads. He wasn’t even sure which one. Right now they were equally annoying. Maybe he should just chuck his fork and see which of them it landed in. 

“Brown, I suggest that you stop helping Todd,” Damian said. He had no qualms about impaling Jason, but Stephanie was better. They normally got along. If she stopped now he’d let the whole matter slide. 

“But that’s no fun,” she said, smiling cheekily. 

His hand tightened on his fork. She made her choice. 

By now everyone was watching. Tim and Babs looked like they were having the time of their life. He marked them down on his stabbing list. Cass, he marked her down as maybe, since she had a small smile fighting its way across her lips. Dick and Alfred didn’t make it on, since the former looked worried and the latter just looked exasperated. 

Then there was Father, who’d put down both his newspaper and his coffee – something he rarely did – in favor of watching everyone in the room. 

The good thing was that he still didn’t know. He just looked confused as he waited for whatever information was going to come next – which, by the looks of it, was going to be Tim. 

Damian glared as Tim said, “I, for one, would like to know what Jason was going to ask. After all, we should work on listening to each other more.” 

Damian snarled, his knuckles going white around his fork. Looks like Tim just made it to the top of the list. 

Before he could launch himself over Cass to get to Tim, Father said, “Don’t stab your siblings, Damian.” 

Dick turned to give him a look. Damian ignored both it and Father’s warning. All it’d take was a second. Cass had even moved back slightly to give him more room. It’d be easy, and it’d wipe the smug smile off Tim’s stupid fa– 

The fork was slipped out of his hand. Damian turned to glare at Dick, but he just gave him a disappointed look that no matter how old he got made Damian feel ten years old again. Not that he’d let that show. He just glared at Grayson and said, “Give me back my fork, I’d like to eat my breakfast.” 

“You can use a spoon,” Dick said, taking away Damian’s knife too. 

Damian smiled viciously and said, “I can still stab Drake with a spoon.” 

Dick gave him a once-over, then took his spoon too. 

Across the table, Barbara snorted. Damian glared and spat, “Got something to say, Gordon?” 

“Nope,” she said. “But I think Jason did. Do you still have something to say, Jason?” 

He was going to murder all of them. Each and every single one. Slowly. Painfully. With his katana. He hadn’t used it in a while. It’d feel good to use it again, especially to make the people in this room bleed. 

“I did, Babs, thanks for reminding me,” Jason said, looking straight at Damian. Then he looked at Father, who looked back warily. He still didn’t know what was going on, but Damian could see that he thought whatever Jason was going to say would be bad. Which it was. Very, very bad. “See, it has recently come to my atten–” 

Jason cut off, eyes wide as he stared at the throwing star embedded in the back of his chair. 

For a solid ten seconds, the room was dead silent as they all stared at the star Damian had just thrown. Then the room exploded. 

“What the _fuck_ –” 

“Damian, really? Where did you even keep that…” 

“How? Like really, _how_ did you get that…” 

“Little brother…” 

“Master Damian, I have said multiple times no weapons at the table and I expect…” 

“Damian, I said don’t impale your siblings–” 

“I didn’t impale him–” 

They all shouted over each other, clambering to be heard. Most of them were yelling at him for nearly impaling Jason – though if he’d wanted to impale Jason, he would have. He’d missed on purpose. He’d only wanted Jason to stop talking, not get hurt. Though he wouldn’t mind hurting Jason. But Father said _not_ to stab anyone, so he hadn’t. Even if they deserved it. 

Really, they shouldn’t be that mad. He’d only hurt the chair, and that could be fixed with a little bit of wood finish. He’d do it himself if they wanted. Especially if they’d all shut u– 

“DAMIAN HAS A GIRLFRIEND!” 

He was wrong. He didn’t want them to shut up. 

As Jason’s words echoed through the room every head snapped towards him. Eight pairs of eyes focused on him, some shocked, other’s laughing, and one smug. Damian glared at Jason, itching for the other throwing star tucked into his pajama pants. 

“You have a girlfriend?” Father asked, almost looking sick. 

Damian sent Jason one last glare before looking at Father and saying, “I do not. Todd is a liar.” 

Father relaxed. Then tensed again as Jason snorted. “Maybe you’re not technically dating, but you basically are. I mean you drive her to school every day.” 

“Shut _up_ , Todd,” Damian growled, taking Cass’s knife and pointing it at him across the table. 

Dick deftly took the knife from him and said, “Jason, can you for once in your life be nice?” 

“I am nice,” Jason mumbled, but Dick gave him a look and he raised his hands in defeat. 

Then Dick looked back at him, a smile on his face. A placating, soothing smile on his face that made Damian want to get out of his chair and leave the room, because whatever Dick was going to say he wasn’t going to want to hear it. 

“Damian, it’s okay if you’re dating someone, you don’t have to hide it from us,” he said, and Damian _definitely_ didn’t want to hear that. His face heated. “We’re not going to make too much fun of you or harass her or anything. I, for one, am happy that you’ve found a girl that you like.” 

His face burned as he fought the urge to bury it in his hands. He didn’t want to be having this conversation. Especially not with his entire family in the room. Talking about how he had a girlfriend when he didn’t actually _have_ a girlfriend was mortifying. 

“Yeah, Dames, we’re all very happy for you,” Barbara said, smiling at him. 

“Even Jason,” Steph piped up, elbowing said person in the side. 

Jason glared at her and said, “I’m happy because I can tease him.” Barbara elbowed him, hard enough that he grunted. Glaring he said, “Fine, yes, I’m happy the demon brat is socializing and has a girlfriend, he deserves happiness and all that, so if she hurts you say that word and I’ll shoot her.” Barbara elbowed him again, glaring. “Not in a dead way, in a painful-but-livable way, jeez.” 

Cass gently touched his shoulder, and he looked at her to find her beaming. God, even Cass was thought Tess was his girlfriend. 

This was a nightmare. An actual, living, hellish nightmare. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening. His entire family thought he was dating Tessa. And they were _happy_ for him. They thought it was good for him that he was dating this girl, when in reality he hadn’t even accepted the fact that he liked her until last night. He’d known for all of a day that he liked her yet his entire family had thought they’d been dating and he just hadn’t told them. 

“I think I’m a step behind,” Father said, frowning. Damian felt his face go bright red. Talking about this with his siblings was mortifying enough. Talking about it with his Father… Damian wanted nothing more than to run out of the room, but he was rooted to his seat as Father asked, “Who is Damian’s… girlfriend?” 

“Tessa Morgan,” Tim said. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Damian shouted, finally finding his voice. 

Every head snapped towards him, and Father frowned, saying, “Damian, if you have a girlfriend you don’t have to be ashamed. Like Dick said, you don’t have to hide her. We’re–” 

“We’re just friends,” Damian interrupted. He couldn’t hear how happy they all were again, especially from Father. He was pretty sure he’d die of embarrassment. “Who even gave all of you the idea that we were dating?” 

Every single head turned to look at a sheepish Dick, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Damian crossed his eyes and glared. “Grayson.” 

“Okay, look, you can’t blame me for thinking that, Little D,” Dick said. “You’ve been hiding this girl from us for over a month, then you start to drive her around everywhere, then you start to talk to _Tim_ about her.” 

Every head snapped to Tim, who was giving Dick a what-the-fuck look. Damian glared at him. Tim had said he _wouldn’t_ tell the others. He should have known not to trust Drake. 

“In my defense,” Tim said, looking at Damian, “I only told them that you talked to me after they’d found out who she was, and only because they forced me to.” 

“Oh yeah, we definitely forced him to,” Jason said, smiling brightly. “We figured that if any of us knew anything about her it’d be Timbers, so we wrung the information out of him.” 

“And how did you wring the information out?” Father asked, leveling his gaze on Jason. 

Damian smirked, even though he felt like a melted puddle of emotions. God, who even thought stuff like that? He was turning into some sort of sap who thought about emotions and made metaphors in his head. He was turning into Grayson. His lips curled. 

Jason rolled his eyes. “Non-lethally, Bruce, jeez. We just tied him up and shined a bright light in his face and threatened to take away all his case files for a week. He sang like a bird after that.” 

“That’s all it took?” Damian asked, glaring. That was pathetic. They were trained to resist brutal, mind-warping torture and all it took to break him was a threat to take away his case files? 

“Yes, since I had a very special case file in there,” Tim said, giving Damian a look. 

It took a moment to click. Then Damian looked at Drake, eyes flashing, to find Tim looking at him levelly. 

He’d given up the information about him talking to Tim about Tessa so that they wouldn’t take his case files and find the one that they’d been working on regarding her broken ankle and the bruises that appeared on her skin. It’d been a strategic move, not a weak moment. He’d given up Damian’s privacy so that Tessa could keep hers. 

Subtly so that the rest of the family didn’t see, he nodded at Tim. 

He really needed to give him more credit. If he’d known that was the situation from the start, he would have said to do the exact same thing. Give himself up to keep Tessa safe. It was the correct choice, and Damian had no doubt that Tim had known that’s what he’d wanted the second Dick and Jason had tied him to a chair. 

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Damian growled, directing his attention away from the case files and back to him. “Why did you tell everyone that I was dating Tessa?” 

“Because I thought you were!” Dick defended. “You talked about her like you like her, so I assumed that since you’re driving her around and everything that you told her you liked her and you’re now dating. It didn’t seem like that far of a stretch that you’d hide a girlfriend from us.” 

“And the rest of you?” Damian asked, looking around the table. 

Steph and Tim averted their gaze, instead fiddling with their silverware. Barbara looked at him helplessly, and Alfred just gave him a look that translated to don’t-be-so-hard-on-your-siblings. It was Cass, though, who said, “When you had talked to me, it seemed like you liked her. You always asked for advice, and they were not just friend questions. You cannot blame us for thinking that you were dating, little brother.” 

Damian frowned, glaring at the table. How had they all known he liked her before he had? He was the son of the greatest detective in the world. He should have known how he felt, yet he hadn’t. Still didn’t, really. He knew he liked Tessa, but here his siblings were saying that it seemed like they were already dating. He hadn’t even gotten to the point in his head where he’d thought about dating Tessa. 

He should have. It was the next logical step after realizing he liked her. When you liked someone, you dated them. That’s what all his siblings did. It was ridiculous that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

“You do like though, right?” Dick asked sheepishly. “In a more-than-friends way?” 

Damian crossed his arms and growled, “That’s none of your business, Grayson.” 

“He does!” Jason shouted, pumping the air with his fist. “The demon brat’s in looooove.” 

Dick had the fork out of his hand before his fist had closed around it completely. 

Glaring, Dick said, “Do you _want_ to get stabbed, Jason? Cause it really seems like you do.” 

“Just to clarify things since I’m an old man and can apparently no longer keep up with my children,” Bruce said, looking around the table before fixing his gaze on Damian. “For the last month you’ve been driving around Tessa Morgan, who is your friend but not your girlfriend, and everyone but myself knew about it and thought that the two of you were dating. You do, however, like this girl, though by your facial expressions throughout this conversation you only seemed to realize this recently which is why you’re both angry and embarrassed by this conversation. Am I missing anything?” 

“No,” Damian grumbled. 

Half of his siblings were looking at him with exasperated looks, no doubt because they all thought he at least knew he liked Tessa. He glared at the table. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t realized. It’s not like he’s done this before. 

“And why are you driving her?” Father asked. “I don’t think I heard the reason.” 

Sinking lower in his seat Damian muttered, “I sprained her ankle.” 

Steph let out a noise that Damian didn’t even want to interpret. Jason repressed a laugh. Dick and Tim just shook their heads. Cass rolled her eyes. Babs and Alfred stared at him, unspeaking. 

Father just blinked then slowly said, “Okay.” 

Damian’s face burned. He had to get out of here. 

As casually as he could he stood up and said, “I have some homework to finish, so if you’ll excuse me I’ll be heading to my room to do that.” 

He didn’t wait for a response. He just picked up his plate, brought it into the kitchen, then ran up to his room. 

He fell onto his bed, burying his head in Titus’s fur. 

That was horrible. He’d just talked with his entire family about how he was not dating the girl he liked, because his entire family had thought they were dating, then had to listen to Father recap everything that had happened. It was about the worst way he could think of to have that conversation. 

At least it was finally over. He could finally rel– 

His phone buzzed. He grabbed it, hoping that it was Tessa, but instead found a text in all capitals from his best friend. 

> **Jon: YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!?!?!?!**

Damian threw his phone onto his bed and ran out of his bedroom, screaming, “YOU’RE DEAD DRAKE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning losers. I hope you liked this chapter, it was a bunch of fun to write and I really enjoyed it cause writing the BatFam is amazing and their dynamic is insane and I love it so much.
> 
> As always comments are more than welcome, and I'll always answer so talk to me there if you feel like it :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian finds out about Tessa's dad

Damian woke up Monday morning, planning to go about his day as normal. He still had no idea what he was going to do with his crush on Tessa. He’d tried talking about it with Cass, but that’d only left him more confused, and there was no way that he was going to talk to anyone else about it, no matter how many times the rest of his family had bothered him about it over the weekend. 

So between that and the Penguin’s stupid scheme over the weekend that had taken all his time, he was at an utter loss as to what to do, so his only plan was to pretend that everything was normal even though it wasn’t. 

Just like every morning before school, he’d get dressed in his school uniform, comb and gel his hair back, put on his shoes, grab his backpack, and then head down to the kitchen. He’d say good morning to Alfred and anyone else in there, eat some breakfast, grab whatever Alfred had packed for him and Tessa that morning, then walk out the door to his car and drive the eight minutes to Tessa’s house. 

Or, at least, that’s what he was going to do. 

His routine got thrown when he slipped into the driver’s seat and his phone buzzed, a message from Tessa appearing on his screen. 

> **Tessa: Don’t pick me up this morning.**

Damian frowned at his phone, heart thudding. Had he done something wrong? Did she not want him to pick her up because he’d said something? The last time they’d talked was Friday night when… everything changed. But she didn’t know that. Did she? No, she couldn’t. That’d be impossible. 

So why didn’t she want to be picked up? 

> **Damian: Everything alright?**

Maybe something was wrong. His heart skipped a beat, his hands balling into fists until his knuckles turned white. If she wasn’t coming to school because whoever was hurting her had done something he was going to– 

His phone buzzed twice. 

> **T: I’m sick**

> **T: Going back to sleep**

He loosed a breath. She was just sick. He hadn’t done something wrong and no one had hurt her. Everything was fine. 

> **D: Feel better.**

He sent the text, then drove to school, planning to pick her up for school tomorrow. 

Only he didn’t. 

Instead, he got the same text, telling him that she was still sick and wasn’t coming. He asked if she wanted him to bring her anything, offering Alfred’s chicken soup that he made for all of them when they were sick, but she didn’t want it, or anything else for the matter, so he went to school without her again and told the teachers when they asked that she was sick and would be back tomorrow. 

Only she wasn’t. 

He got the same text Wednesday morning too. 

And Thursday. 

When he got the same text on Friday, he’d had enough. 

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut. He was almost certain that she wasn’t actually sick. It didn’t add up. Unless she was extremely sick with something like the flu, she should be fine by now. And if she was actually sick, she wouldn’t keep brushing him off when he asked questions. She wouldn’t switch topics or give half-assed answers that didn’t make sense. What she was telling him wasn’t adding up to her being sick. 

It was adding up to something being wrong. Very, very wrong, because Tessa didn’t miss school. In the entire semester she hadn’t missed a single day. Not one. He’d seen her show up to school sick on two separate occasions. And now she’d missed an entire week because something had happened. 

He felt sick as he sat in the last class of the day. Something had happened, and everything was pointing to the mystery person who was hurting her. It was the only explanation, and it was killing him that he was stuck _here_ , in this stupid classroom, when something was wrong. For all he knew she could be hurt again. She could have another broken bone, or more bruises, or a cut that needed stitches– 

He balled his hands into fists and forced himself to breathe. He forced the breaths in and out, calming the rising tide of anger that made him want to grab his katana and hack through everyone until he figured out what happened. 

He’d find out soon enough. The bell would ring in seventeen minutes, and then he could drive to her house and damn the consequences and make sure that she was alright. That’s all he really wanted; to see that she’s alright. If he could do that, he didn’t even need to know what happened. 

Though he’d figure it out. Whatever had made Tessa miss this week of school had better watch their back, because he was coming for them and nothing was going to stop him from making sure they never heart Tessa again. 

\----------------------------------- 

Tessa sat in her room, trying and failing to read a book. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it – it was actually one of her favorites – it was just that she couldn’t focus. On any other day she would have fallen into it, but today she could barely make it past a page. She’d been staring at the pages for almost an hour, and yet she’d barely made it six pages. 

She hated it. She wanted nothing more than to fall into the story and lose herself to it, to forget for just a little bit that everything was shit. She wished she could forget, but no matter how hard she tried to block the words out they’d cut through her head. 

_No one cares about you._

Her hands tightened on the book. She wouldn’t think about that. She wouldn’t let the words ruin her any longer. She’d had enough of that the past four days. She wasn’t going to let them ruin the fifth day for her. 

_You don’t matter._

Read the words. She had to keep reading the words on the page. All she had to do was get lost in the story and then her brain would shut up. Then her dad’s voice would finally stop talking to her. If she could just get lost doing something else she could finally find some peace. 

_You’re worthless._

Her throat tightened. Tessa blinked hard, forcing the tears from her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She’d cried enough this week to last a lifetime. Taking a deep breath she looked back at her book, reading the same line she’d read four times already. 

_Nothing you do will ever matter._

Tears blurred her vision. She wiped at them, hard enough that it hurt. 

_You won’t accomplish anything._

The tears fell, staining her face once again. She sucked in a breath, counting to four, held it for eight, then breathed out for seven. 

_You might as well be dead._

A sob forced its way out of her throat. The book slid from her lap, landing with a dull thud on the floor. She barely noticed it. Barely felt it. Barely felt anything. All she could feel was the rolling in her stomach and the hot tears streaming down her face. 

She hated this. The numbness. The lack of caring. The way she could only sit here, crying and broken and unable to put herself back together. It’d been five days. _Days_. She should have been able to reconstruct herself by now. She should be _fine_. Yet all she could do was sit here and listen to the words her dad had hurled at her and break more and more. 

It _hurt_. She had always been able to deal with the bruises and cuts and broken bones. That was all just physical, a fleeting pain that she knew would go away. It was the words that always broke her. The way he’d tell her everything that she feared and thought of about herself. The way he knew exactly what to say to cut to her very core. It was those times that left her hollow and numb and broken. 

He’d shattered her this time. Normally it was just a bit, a crack or the section. But this time the walls she’d constructed around herself had fallen, and she been left completely shattered in the rubble. It’d been a week and she’d barely been able to pick up even the bigger pieces of herself that she could find. 

She just wanted to feel okay again. 

God, that sounded so sad. Tessa sniffled, wiping at her eyes. It was true, yeah, but it was so pathetic. At this point, her dad shouldn’t be able to break her like this. She’d been dealing with him for nearly seven years. She should be used to it, or at the very least be able to block it out, yet here she was, curled up on her bed crying like a goddamn idiot– 

The doorbell rang, the chime echoing through the empty house. 

She ignored it. The mailman or whoever it was could just leave whatever they’d come to give her or come back at a different time. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t even sure she could. She was so drained that she barely felt like she could breathe. 

The doorbell rang again. And again. And again. Incessantly. Five quick chimes that came within ten seconds of the other, a noise demanding to be heard and answered. 

Tessa just curled further into her bed and shoved the covers over her head to block out the sound. 

It would have worked. If it had actually been a mailman or someone else like that, it would have. But it wasn’t, and she couldn’t ignore or pretend that she didn’t hear when Damian Wayne called out her name. 

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest. Numbly she climbed out of bed, if only to make sure that her ears weren’t playing tricks on her. At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if they were. Her brain had been coming up with more and more ridiculous fantasies over the past five days than she could count. Damian Wayne showing up at her house definitely fit into that category. 

Wiping at her eyes she pulled back her curtain a fraction of an inch, expecting to see nothing but her front lawn, but instead somehow locked eyes with Damian. 

Heart hammering, she backed away from the window and let the curtain fall shut, effectively blocking Damian from seeing her. She nearly lost her balance on her crutches she moved so fast. 

She didn’t want him here. Didn’t want him to see her like this. Didn’t want anyone to see her like this, but if Damian did… it’d change everything. She’d become friends with him, in an unlikely turn of events, and she wanted to keep it that way. If he saw her like this, if she had to explain why she’d missed the last week of school, he’d run. Everyone else had. She’d lose him. The thought nearly made her sick. 

Maybe he hadn’t seen her. Maybe she could just pretend she wasn’t here and he’d eventually go away and– 

“Tessa, I saw you,” Damian called, voice hard. She flinched. “Stop hiding and come down here and talk to me. I’m worried.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. He was worried. Damian Wayne was worried about her. She stood where she was, dumbstruck. Sure, they were friends, but they weren’t _that_ kind of friends. She’d never had that kind of friends. Had that kind of anybody. Surely he didn’t mean it in a way where he meant he actually cared about her. That was ridiculous. 

But what other interpretation was there? There wasn’t any. The words were plain and simple; Damian Wayne was worried about her. And he wanted her to come downstairs so they could talk. 

Tessa shook. No. No, no, no, _no_ , there was no way she was going downstairs and talking to him. She didn’t care how worried he was. She didn’t want him to see her like this. If he did, if she had to face him like this, she’d break down. She was barely holding it together as it was. Facing him would break whatever tattered remnants of her wall remained. 

“Tessa Morgan, I swear to god if you don’t come down and open the door I’m coming in.” 

Her heart thundered in her chest. If it were anyone else, she’d call their bluff. But this was Damian. She’d never seen him bluff a day in his life. If he said he was going to do something, he’d do it. And he could. He knew where her spare was, and even if he’d forgotten he knew how to pick locks. If she didn’t open the door, he’d come in anyway. 

She couldn’t let him. She couldn’t. If he saw her and knew what was happening, if he knew how weak she was, if he knew how much of a coward she was, if he knew how worthless she was, he’d leave. And maybe it was selfish, and pointless, and wouldn’t last long anyway, but she wanted to keep him for just a little bit longer. She didn’t want to lose him quite yet. 

Swallowing hard she called, “Go away, Damian.” 

She cringed at how raw her voice sounded. 

“No,” Damian called, anger pulsing through the single syllable. “You have two minutes to let me in, or I’m coming in. It’s your choice, Tessa.” 

Her heart thundered, the word _no_ echoing through her head with each beat. 

Half stumbling, she went out of her room and down the stairs, nearly losing her balance and falling half a dozen times. But she reached the door. And promptly threw the two deadbolts into place. 

On the other side of the door she heard Damian swear. 

“Tessa, open the door,” Damian said, his voice so close that he sounded like he was leaning against the door and breathing against it. 

She shook her head, backing away a step. It wouldn’t keep him out forever. She had no illusion that he could pick those locks as well, but it would give her more time. Time to convince him to leave. Time to figure out how to keep him from seeing her. Time to make sure that she wouldn’t lose him quite yet. 

“Tessa, please,” Damian breathed. “You’ve missed an entire week of school, and haven’t given me any reason why – and don’t say you’re sick, I know you’re not. Something is _wrong_ and I want to help, but you have to let me in.” She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that were beginning to form. “Open the door, Tess.” 

Her heart clenched. He’d barely just started calling her Tess. He’d said it one morning when she’d slid into his car, and then promptly apologized, but she had fought back a smile while telling him it was fine. That he could call her Tess. She’d never been given any nickname besides Tessie, and that – she would always hate that name. But when he’d said Tess, it’d felt right. 

It wasn’t fair that he used it now. Even if he didn’t know how much weight that held, it wasn’t fair. 

“Go home, Damian,” she said, voice hollow. At least it wasn’t shaking. “I’m fine.” 

“ _Bullshit_ ,” he growled without hesitation. “You’re not fine. If you were fine you would have opened the door by now.” 

“Damian–” she started, but the sound of one of the locks clicking back made her voice falter. Her stomach twisted. “Damian, please, just go home. I can’t… I… I’m fine. I’m fine and you can leave and I’ll text you or something tonight but I can’t do this right now so just go ho–” 

Another lock clicked. 

“Damian, _please_ ,” she said, her voice going panicky and breathy as her breath came short and fast. “Please leave. Please I’m fine I promise so you can leave and come pick me up for school on Monday–” 

The final lock clicked. 

The door swung open, revealing Damian standing before her. For a single moment, all she did was stare at him. His hair was messy. It was never messy. It was always smoothed back, but it looked like he’d run his hands through it so many times that it was messy and sticking up in different directions. And his eyes, they were so intense. The green in them looked alive as he stared at her, his eyes roving over every bit of her. 

For that single moment when they stared at each other, taking the other in, she was fine. 

Then the moment passed. 

Before either of them could say a single word, a sob caught in her throat. Like a wave everything that had happened this last week, all the pain and brokenness and exhaustion, came crashing over her, and she crumbled with it, her legs no longer willing to support her. 

Damian caught her before she hit the ground. 

Ever so gently he swung her into his arms, being oh so careful of her cast. And then he walked over to the couch, carrying her as if she weighed nothing, and sat down, pulling her close. 

She wished she could say she’d been graceful, but she hadn’t been. The second Damian had caught her she had clutched onto his shirt, her hands fisting in his shirt, and started crying harder. It was like every pent-up emotion was washing out of her, and she clung to Damian like he was a rock in a raging river. As soon as he was on the couch, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her and tucking her under his chin, she lost it. She curled into him and cried harder than she had in years. 

She cried for the pain she felt in her chest. She cried for the way she was broken and only had crumbling walls to keep her from breaking completely. She cried for the emptiness she felt inside. She cried for the way she either felt nothing or too much. She cried for the hurt that had been raging and burning inside of her for the past seven years. 

She cried for the girl she had been before all this started. For the girl who is now gone, the one who still believed in the world and the people in it. For the girl who could laugh and smile and trust without blinking an eye. For the girl who was happy and whole and full of life. For the girl who she wished she still was but was now dead. 

She cried for herself. For who she had become. For the girl who now looked at the world and didn’t see its light. For the girl who was anger and emptiness and fear. For this person who she had become, one that barely cared about anything and clung to a thin hope that things could eventually be better, a hope that grew less and less every time she broke like this. 

But as she sat there, crying into Damian’s shoulder, that hope sparked and grew just a little bit. 

He was here. He saw her break and crumble to the floor, and instead of walking away and leaving her he’d caught her. He’d _caught_ her. And then he’d held onto her and still hadn’t let go. He was letting her cry while he held her and didn’t say a single word or ask any questions but just let her cry while letting her know that he was there. Damian was _here_ , and he hadn’t left. She cried harder. 

Tessa didn’t know if it was minutes or hours later when she eventually stopped crying. For all she knew it could have been days. She was so exhausted and drained that it felt like she’d been crying for weeks. 

Sniffling she adjusted her head, only to find that Damian’s entire shoulder was wet. 

Her mouth popped open. She’d just cried on Damian. She’d gotten his entire shirt all wet. She was sitting on him. He was hugging her. They’d never done something like this before. They barely even touched, besides when they passed things to each other or when they bumped each other in the shoulder jokingly. She had no idea how to deal with this. 

And she was tired. She was so, so tired, and dealing with this when she was at one hundred percent would have been hard. But she had to say something. God she had to say something, and she had no idea what to say, and– and– and– 

“I got your shirt wet.” 

Damian huffed a laugh, the sound almost surprised. “Only you, Tessa.” 

She frowned, burying her face into his shoulder. “What?” 

She didn’t get it. It wasn’t that weird of a thing to say. She had gotten his shirt wet. 

“You just cried for nearly forty minutes for some reason I still don’t know, but obviously hurt you in a way that your body had no other way of expressing the emotion than to cry for that long, and you,” Damian said, squeezing her slightly, “are more worried about getting my shirt wet than whatever made you cry.” 

Her stomach flipped. It wasn’t like that. Not really. She just… didn’t want to talk about why she was crying. She hadn’t ever done that, except for one time and that’d been years ago when all this had started, and all it’d done was drive everyone away, and she didn’t want to drive Damian away– 

“What happened Tessa?” he asked softly. 

Her heart skipped a beat. “I… It… I don’t want to talk about this.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, heart hammering. 

For a long moment, there was silence. Then– “Who did this to you?” 

Tessa froze, her eyes blowing wide as every muscle in her body locking. Damian’s voice… she’d never heard it like that. The hard anger, the threat in it, the growl that was a nothing short of predatory. It’d send anyone with half a brain running for their life. 

Except she didn’t, because it wasn’t aimed at her. It was aimed at whoever had made her cry. It was aimed at her dad. And in that moment, she felt safer than she had in years. 

Yet she still found herself saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

It was more of a reflex than anything else. When someone asked how she was, or if something was wrong, or called out something that wasn’t right, she would hide. She’d run away and lie and come up with any excuse to keep them from the truth. 

“Damn it, Tessa, stop lying,” Damian hissed, his muscles tensing. “Someone has been hurting you for months, and I’m sick of pretending that I don’t see it. I’m sick of letting you lie to me. Tell me what is happening.” 

A tear ran down her cheek. She wanted to tell him. In that moment, she realized that. She wanted to tell Damian everything. Wanted to stop lying. She almost did. Would have, if that tiny part in the back of her brain would stop telling her that he would leave if she told him. 

Even though she hated it, she said, “I haven’t been lying, Damian.” 

The words tasted wrong. 

“Fine, let’s recap, then,” Damian said, his voice somehow tense and impossibly soft at the same time. “When I sprained your ankle, you left your shoe in my car and when I came to drop it off, I saw a bruise on your shoulder. It was a bruise from a punch – and I know what those look like, so don’t even try to lie to me about how you got that.” 

Tessa’s heart pounded wildly in her chest. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t remember that. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t _right_. She didn’t even remember the bruises that she’d had. She’d stopped keeping track long ago, but by his tone he was going to keep going. She wished he’d stop. 

“Then your ankle gets broken instead of sprained,” he said, his voice going back to that deadly calm when he asked who did this to her. “You say you fell down the stairs, but you didn’t. Contrary to what you want everyone to believe, you’re not clumsy. You don’t just trip and fall and give yourself bruises. Someone broke your ankle, and then continued to give you bruises over these past six weeks. Should I list all of them?” 

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Everything had gone numb, and all she could do was sit there and listen as Damian told her all the things that she’d been trying to hide. 

“The ones I saw,” Damian said, and she knew he knew that there were more. There were so many. “were on your wrists from what looked like a too hard grip, on your upper arm from punches and from someone slammed you into walls, on your shoulders and collarbone from punches and possibly kicks.” His voice had gone so soft and deadly that she scarcely dared to breathe. “Of course, with the pattern of those punches and the way you would sometimes limp or flinch when you breathed, I’d imagine you had some on your legs and your stomach and back, but I can’t prove those.” 

Her breath started to come hard and fast. He knew. He knew about everything. All the bruises, the pain, the fact that she hadn’t fallen. He _knew_. And he wasn’t done. 

“Then there’s this week, when you didn’t come to school and just broke down,” he said. “With the timeline I’m assuming that whatever happened sometime on Sunday, and with how faded the bruise on your cheek is that would line up too.” 

Numbly her hand lifted to her cheek. She’d forgotten she’d even had a bruise there. 

“Someone has been hurting you for months, Tessa, and I haven’t said anything because I haven’t been able to figure out who, but I’m done pretending that everything’s fine,” he said, voice softening. “Tell me what’s happening, Tessa.” 

She hadn’t realized she was crying again until she wiped at her face, only to realize that it was wet. 

He knew. Damian knew everything. He didn’t know the details, the why’s and how’s, but he knew. He knew something was wrong and he was calling it out and he was still here. He wasn’t running away because something was wrong. He was staying. 

“If I tell you,” Tessa said, voice shaking, “you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” 

“Tessa–” 

“Promise, Damian,” she said. “Or I’m not telling you.” 

There was a single, heart-wrenching moment of silence where she thought he would back out, but he said, “I promise.” 

She took a deep. Damian hugged her tighter, a silent reminder that he was there. 

Swallowing hard she said, “My dad isn’t… the best person. He has problems – lots of them. And when he’s mad, or drunk, or just in the wrong mood, he likes to take those problems out on me.” 

She stopped, taking a deep breath. The words were out. They were just… out there, in the world now. She’d never spoken them aloud before. It somehow made her feel lighter knowing that someone else new. 

“Your _father_ is the one who’s been hurting you?” Damian asked, his voice that deadly calm again. 

Tessa nodded. 

His arms tightened around her. “How long?” 

Softly she said, “Seven years.” 

She heard the air rush out of Damian, a breath that was all shock and horror as her words registered in his head. A tear slipped down her cheek. Thinking about this, going back through everything that had happened, trying to tell it to someone… just thinking about all that made her chest tighten. 

“Seven years,” Damian repeated. 

“My mom left when I was nine,” she explained. “I didn’t know it until after she left, but my dad had been abusing her for years. I guess one night she just snapped and left. Just took off and ran – not that I blame her. I would have done the same if I were her, but I would have taken my daughter with me. Guess she didn’t care for me enough to take me so that when she left, my dad wouldn’t start abusing me instead of her.” 

Damian swore. 

“It didn’t start out bad. It was mostly verbal. It wasn’t until I reached twelve that he started hitting me,” she said, swallowing hard. “From there it varied, but I learned to keep to my room and out of his path, learned to hide the bruises and force a smile onto my face and convince everyone I was fine. 

“I got pretty good at it, too,” she said bitterly. “Not that I wanted to. Lying became like breathing, and I basically had two lives – the one at home, and the one outside of it. Everything was explained away as accidents and clumsiness, and somewhere along the way everything became normal.” 

“Did you ever tell anyone?” Damian asked. 

“Once,” she said, softly. The day flashed before her eyes. Her friends laughing at her. Her dad telling them she was a liar. Them leaving. The beating that came that night, and the first time she’d had to go to the hospital. “It didn’t end well.” 

Damian didn’t push it. Instead, he said, “Why didn’t you come to school?” 

A tear slid down her face. “I can take the beatings. I’ve learned to deal with those for so long that they barely faze me anymore. What I still can’t handle–” She paused, swallowing hard. “What I still can’t handle is when he’s completely sober and telling me everything that I fear is true.” 

“What did he say?” Damian ground out. 

Tessa shook her head, burying it further into his shoulder. 

“Tessa, what did he say?” 

“Don’t push it,” she said. “I can’t talk about that, not right now.” 

She couldn’t tell Damian all her fears. Couldn’t tell him how worthless she felt. 

After a long moment Damian said, “Whatever he said, it isn’t true. You know that, right?” 

She didn’t answer. 

“You know that, right?” Damian repeated, tipping her chin up so she had to look him in the eye. 

She met his gaze but didn’t answer. She was so sick of lying. 

“Tell me you know that,” Damian said, eyes searching. 

She just shook her head, dropping her gaze. 

“Hey,” Damian said, forcing her to look back at him. “Whatever he said, it isn’t true. You’re one of the smartest, kindest people I know. Whatever he said, whatever he told you that you are or aren’t, it isn’t true. You are an amazing person, and nothing will ever change that. Okay?” 

A tear slipped down her cheek. Damian brushed it away with her thumb. Hoarsely she said, “Okay.” 

“Okay,” he said, relaxing slightly. “Now we’re going to go to the police and report him and get you out of here.” 

Her eyes flew wide, heart speeding up. “No,” she said, sitting up just so she could look him straight in the eye. “You promised, Damian. You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.” 

His jaw tightened. “I’m not just going to let you stay here so your father can keep abusing you.” 

“It’s not your choice,” she said, glaring. 

“Tessa–” 

“No, Damian, you don’t _get_ it,” she said, another tear slipping down her cheek. “Don’t you think I would have done that by now if it would help? Don’t you think I would have gotten myself out of this situation if I could have? Going to the police won’t help. They won’t do a damn thing. Even if the police force wasn’t corrupt, my dad’s a politician. He can do whatever the hell he wants and everyone will cover it up for him. All going to the police will do is earn me another beating. 

“I can’t get out, not unless he does something so godawful that they can’t look away, and beating his daughter every once in a while isn’t some godawful thing, so I’m stuck here, and since I’m stuck I’d rather just keep my head down for the next two and a half years and deal with it like I’ve been dealing with it for the past seven.” 

Damian reached out and wiped away her tears, then pulled her back to his chest and hugged her. “Fine,” he said. “We won’t go to the police, but if he ever touches you again or he yells at you and you fall apart like this, you call me, okay? I don’t care what time it is, or how much of a mess you are, you _call me_ and we’ll talk or I’ll come get you.” 

“Okay,” Tessa said, her heart tightening. 

It wasn’t because she was sad. It was because she was happy. He was here. He had listened to everything that she’d said and he wasn’t respecting what she’d said and was offering to help her in a different way. He was giving her a way out if she needed one. She’d never had that before. 

She leaned in closer to Damian, something inside of her settling. He put his chin on top of her head, letting it rest there gently, and they just sat there, lost in their own thoughts. 

For the first time that week, she felt okay again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright my lovelies, here's the chapter. Sorry it's posted a bit later in the day than normal, but I had to finish it. It was an intense chapter to write so it took me longer than I thought to write it and make it something that I actually liked, but I'm really happy with how it turned out and I hope you all enjoy it even though it's not the happiest of chapters.
> 
> On a different note, it's my birthday today. Yay. Happy birthday to me. This chapter is a birthday present to myself cause I've been thinking about this since I started writing this story a couple months ago, and it feels so damn good to finally have it up.
> 
> On a third note, I start my freshmen year of college on Monday, which is super exciting. Buuuuuut that means that I might not be able to do twice a week updates (boo). I'm going to do my best to keep up with this story, and since I'm a creative writing major I think I will be able to, but if at any point things become to much I might switch to a chapter a week. I'll of course let you guys know when/if things change, but you can expect regualar updates until at least next weekend.
> 
> So yeah, that's everything. As always talk to me in the comments and let me know what you thought!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian does something about Tessa's dad

Damian stormed down the steps to the Batcave, the rolling storm in his gut pushing each and every step. His entire being felt jittery and wrong, the energy begging to be released. He knew exactly where it wanted to be released. Knew that his blood was singing his death-song. Knew that every part of his being was begging for him to take his katana and drive it through Tessa’s dad’s gut and watch the life drain from his eyes. 

Snarling Damian grabbed his katana and with smooth, practiced moves began to dismember one of the training dummies. Then another. And another. 

How could he have not known? How hadn’t he even considered her dad as one of the suspects? It was stupid. It was blind. It was an oversight that he should not have made. Her dad should have been his first suspect. He dealt with child abusers on a daily basis. His mind should have gone straight to her dad, but it hadn’t, and Tessa had continued to be hurt because of it. 

He hacked off the head of one of the dummies. 

All the signs had been there. Every. Single. One. She’d asked on the very first day that he started driving her to park away from her house so her dad wouldn’t see. That should have been his first goddamn clue. He’d just taken her reason – a bullshit reason that he was overprotective – when he _knew_ she was being hurt, because it was Tessa and he’d been blinded by his goddamn _emotions_ and took her word as it was when he should have been dissecting them. 

An idiot. He was such a goddamn idiot. The bruises, the way she curled in on herself when she did something wrong, the fact she didn’t like attention, the avoidance of talking about her dad – all of those led to the conclusion that it was her dad hurting her and he’d been too goddamn blind to see it. 

Growling he sliced off an arm of a dummy and then stuck his sword into its eye. 

Breathing hard he let go of his katana. He had to do something. Tessa hadn’t wanted to go to the police, had made him promise not to tell anyone, but he couldn’t just sit on his hands and do nothing while she was being hurt. He couldn’t. He had to do something. He had to make sure she wouldn’t be hurt again. 

He was Robin. He was the son of Batman and the grandson of the Demon’s Head. He was a damn good vigilante and he was going to _do_ something about this because he couldn’t stand by and let Tessa get hurt more than she already was. 

“Hey, Dames, everything alri–” 

Without thinking he yanked his katana out of the dummy and swung it at the approaching person. 

Dick jumped back a step, eyes wide and arms raised in surrender. “Woah, easy there, Little D, it’s just me.” 

Snarling Damian lowered his katana and started pacing, swinging it every once in a while to keep the nerves inside his body from exploding. 

The quickest way to make sure that Tessa was never hurt again would be to kill her father, but he couldn’t do that. He didn’t kill. Not anymore. Not in years. He’d spilled enough blood in his lifetime already. He wouldn’t kill her dad, even if nothing would bring him more pleasure than to carve out the man’s unfeeling heart. 

“You alright there, Damian?” Dick asked, hands still half raised. “You seem a little tense.” 

“Fine,” Damian ground out. 

He’d promised Tessa he wouldn’t tell anyone. He could at least respect that. Besides, he could handle her piece of shit father on his own. He didn’t need any help to take down a coward like that. 

“You sure?” Dick asked, taking a half step closer. Damian saw him eye his katana. His grip tightened on it. “If something’s wrong you can talk to me. Maybe I can help you figure out the problem.” 

“I’m fine, Grayson,” he said, glaring at the floor. “You can continue doing whatever it is that you are here to do. I am perfectly capable of dealing with this problem on my own.” 

Dick frowned, giving him a once over as if he could somehow figure out the problem based on his body language. Damian muffled a snort. That might work with their other siblings and the people they fight, but he wasn’t an open book. He’d been trained to mask his emotions as soon as he could understand what they were. Dick would get nothing from him. 

“You figured it out, didn’t you?” 

Damian glared, looking past Dick to find Tim standing on the sparring mats. Dick half-turned, looking between him and Tim. Damian ignored him, instead looking at Tim who was looking at him with a mix of sadness, anger, and question. 

Damian bared his teeth. He didn’t want the pity. He didn’t need it. He’d figured out who was hurting Tessa and he didn’t need Drake to look at him like that, like he cared about what happened or who was hurting Tessa or any of it. He was about to say just that, but the words stalled on the tip of his tongue. 

Tim had been helping him. It’d been Tim, of all his siblings, who had found out that Tessa’s leg was broken and bothered to ask about it. Tim who had offered to help to find out who did it. Tim who didn’t question him when he said that someone was hurting her. Tim who had kept the information from his siblings when they went on their quest to find out information about Tessa. 

So instead of giving the biting reply he normally would, he dipped his chin in a nod. 

Tim’s face turned to stone. If you didn’t know him you’d think he was lost in thought, but that was him when he was angry. Tim went silent, his brain working a mile a minute. Damian watched him, waiting for the eventual question he knew he would ask. 

After a too-long minute that Dick used to look between the two of them with a bewildered expression, Tim asked, “Who?” 

Damian looked at Dick, who was looking at him with obvious question but was too shocked for words. He couldn't figure it out if he said who. Dick might be smart, but there weren’t enough clues for him to figure it out. 

Looking straight at Tim he ground out, “Her father.” 

The words sent a surge of rage through his veins. How could her father do something like that? How could _anyone’s_ father do that to their child? But Tessa… Tessa was everything that was good and right and beautiful in the world, and the thought that anyone would want to hurt her was bewildering. The thought that her father, the person who raised her, would lay a hand on her was revolting. From the look on Tim’s face, Damian assumed he agreed. 

“Hold up,” Dick said, raising both hands and looking between his siblings. “What are you guys talking about?” 

“Nothing,” Damian said, flexing his hand around his sword. The urge to shove it through her father’s gut had returned. 

“No, don’t you dare do that,” Dick said, crossing his arms. “Something is obviously wrong since you two are _working together_ and are both beyond angry. I haven’t seen you hack through dummies like that in years, Damian. Something happened and you’re going to tell me now.” 

Dick looked between the two of them, one of his well-practiced disapproving-big-brother glares aimed at them. Normally, that look had guilt surging through him and he’d tell Dick everything. Normally, he’d barely be able to last a minute against that look. But today wasn’t normal. Today he wasn’t keeping something about himself from his big brother, but something about someone else. Today his secret wasn’t his own. 

So Damian looked Dick in the eye, completely unaffected, and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grayson.” 

Dick narrowed his eyes, then looked to Tim. Tim glanced between him and Dick, then raised his hands in defeat and said, “It’s not mine to tell, Dick. I’m not even sure it’s Damian’s to tell. You should drop it.” 

Damian met Tim’s eyes and nodded. 

Dick huffed and said, “If it’s not Damian’s to tell, why did he tell you? No offense, but you two don’t exactly share with each other.” 

“Because Tim,” Damian said, cutting in before Tim could speak, “has been helping me with this, so even though it is not mine to tell he deserved to know, so I told him.” 

Dick gave them both a bewildered look. “He was helping you?” A nod. “With a problem you had?” Another nod. “Did you blackmail him into helping you?” 

“Drake offered his help without any prompting.” 

Dick swung to face Tim. “You offered to help Damian of your own free will?” 

Tim shrugged. “It wasn’t about him.” 

Dick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, look, I get that something is happening and it doesn’t involve either of you directly, but I’m going to need to know what this is because if you two are working together it means something is very wrong, and it has to do with someone’s dad which means someone is no doubt being hurt by their dad, so I’m going to need names and all the information right now so we can decide the best course of action that won’t end in Damian dismembering someone.” 

“I don’t need your help in dealing with this,” Damian said, crossing his arms. “And if I did dismember him – which I won’t – he would deserve it.” 

Dick narrowed his eyes. “You either tell me right now, or I go upstairs and get B.” 

Damian met his stare, jutting out his chin. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Try me,” Dick said, squaring his shoulders. 

Damian looked at Dick. He’d do it. That much was clear. If he didn’t tell Dick, he would walk up those stairs and get Father, which would lead down an entire path that would end with Tessa not trusting him anymore, because if Father found out he’d go the legal route first and Tessa would know it was him that told someone. 

Snarling Damian swung his sword, then pointed it at Dick. “I’ll tell you, but you have to swear right here and now that you won’t tell anyone without either my or this person’s say-so.” 

“I promise,” Dick said. “Robin’s honor.” 

Damian gave Dick one last look before saying, “Tessa’s father has been abusing her for the past seven years.” 

A shocked, numb silence fell over the gave as both Dick and Tim processed his words. 

Then Dick’s shoulders tensed and he asked, his voice straining to stay calm, “Did you report him to the police?” 

“No,” Damian snarled, swinging his sword. “Tessa made me promise not to.” 

“Then we go ourselves.” 

They all looked up to find Cass walking down the stairs, her face a hard mask. It was the face she wore when facing the lowest criminals. It was the face that made Cass the most terrifying of all of them – even him. They might both have been assassins, but it was Cass who made people’s blood run cold at the first sign of the Black Bat. 

It was that Cass that was looking down at him from the last few steps. That Cass who looked as ready to slit the man’s throat as Damian was himself. 

Maybe he didn’t need help. Maybe he could make sure Tessa’s father never hurt her again without his siblings. But looking at Cass, Damian couldn’t help but grin. Maybe he didn’t need his siblings, but his message would be that much more forceful if five bats showed up instead of just one. 

Looking at Dick and Tim, he asked, “Are you coming?” 

“Damn straight,” Tim said. 

“Of course we’re all going,” Dick said. 

“Good, call Jason then,” Damian said, a plan already forming in his head. 

Dick nodded and pulled out his phone. Looking at the other two Damian said, “No one tells Bruce or Alfred. They’ll try and stop us, or not let us hurt the bastard, and I have no plans of letting him walk away from this without a bruise to show for it.” 

“Agreed,” Cass said. 

“No permanent damage,” Dick said, a hand over the end of his phone. 

“Of course not,” Damian said, his smile anything but innocent. 

Dick gave him one of his disapproving-big-brother stares. He ignored it. 

“Jason can be here in five minutes,” Dick said. 

“Good,” Damian said. “Tell him to bring his guns.” 

Dick gave him a strange look, but relayed the message through the phone. 

Five minutes later Jason roared into the cave on his motorcycle, Red Hood suit on and half of his arsenal strapped to his body. They looked back at him, all in their own suits with their weapons stashed. 

“Alright,” Damian said, fighting the urge to grab his katana. “Here’s the plan.” 

\---------------------------------- 

At 10:37 Walter Morgan walked out of city hall and into the cement parking lot next door, looking as smooth and polished as he had when he started the day. Not a hair was out of place on his head, his suit was still perfectly pressed, and his briefcase gleamed in the yellow light of the parking garage. 

Damian sat on one of the cement beams holding up the parking garage, glaring down at the man. By the end of the night, he was going to make sure the man looked anything but polished. 

Without any warning, Damian dropped from the beam and landed in front of the man. 

“Walter Morgan,” he said, raising himself to his full height. 

The man stumbled back a step, fear marring his clean-shaven face. Then he took in Robin standing before him, put a hand to his chest, and huffed out a laugh as he straightened. “Robin. You started me.” 

Damian said nothing. 

Smoothing down his suit Walter smiled and said, “Is there something I can do for you?” 

“You can stop hurting your daughter,” he said, voice low. 

For a single, brief moment, shock and fear flickered across the man’s face. Then it was smoothed into incredulity and he said, “I don’t know who told you that, but I have never hurt my daughter. I would never. She’s the only family I have le–” 

With a flash of light on steel, Damian pulled out his katana and leveled it with the man’s throat. 

“I suggest you don’t lie to, Walter,” Damian said, taking a step forward so their faces were inches apart. “I know the truth. I know what you’ve done. Don’t test my patience. It’s already very thin, and when it runs out my hand just might slip.” 

Fear, genuine, burning fear entered the man’s gray eyes, Tessa’s eyes, and he stumbled back a step – right into Dick. 

He whirled, his shoulders relaxing as he took Dick in, then gasped, “Nightwing, thank god. Robin’s gone insane. He’s making up wild accusations and threatening to murder me. You have to help me.” 

“Help you?” Dick said, stepping around the man to stand next to Damian. “I would never.” 

Walter Morgan looked between the two of them, then took off running in the opposite direction. 

Damian watched him run but didn’t move muscle to pursue. He didn’t have to. 

From the rafters dropped Cass, a menacing form of black, cutting off his path. 

He tried to run around her but stopped short when he came face to face with Tim. 

Slowly Damian stalked towards him, letting his katana drag lightly on the ground, the grating sound echoing through the empty garage. 

He relished in the fear on the man’s face as they all circled him in, leading him towards one of the stone pillars. Like a lamb to the slaughter, he let them back him towards it, until his back crashed into it. 

With false bravado, he puffed out his chest and said, “I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s my right to parent my child as I see fit. If you knew her you’d know she deser–” 

Like a crack of lightning Damian struck. 

He didn’t even think. It was pure, blinding rage that moved his muscles as he balled his fist and slammed it into the man's jaw with only just shy of the force needed to shatter it. 

The man’s head snapped to the side as he stumbled a step. Damian barely let him straighten back up, cursing and clutching his jaw before he leveled his katana with his throat again and backed him up into the pillar. 

Snarling into his face he said, “Would you like to finish that sentence?” 

His face turned white. 

“That’s what I thought,” Damian said. He didn’t lower his katana. “Now you’re going to listen to me very carefully or you’re going to have more than just a bruised jaw, got it?” 

Damian expected him to cower. Tessa’s father was a coward. Anyone who beat their child was. Yet Walter Morgan lifted his chin, even though the color had drained from his face, and asked, “Or what, you’re going to kill me?” 

Damian just moved his sword so that it drew the faintest bit of blood. 

Walter shook. “You-you-you wouldn’t. Batman wouldn’t allow it. You don’t even kill criminals! You won’t kill me. It goes against your code.” 

Damian smiled, sharp and predatory, and lowered his sword, taking a step back. “Maybe not, but he will.” 

Jason dropped from the beam, landing to his right with a gun in each hand. 

“Hiya Walter,” Jason said, waving with a gun. “Heard of me?” 

If it was possible the man turned whiter as he stammered out, “Y-yes.” 

“Heard of what I do to people who abuse children?” Jason asked, pointing one of his guns directly at Walter’s head, who was nodding vigorously. “Great, that’s going to save a lot of time. So, if it was my call, I’d put a bullet in your head right now but the rest of these fine people are a little bit against that type of approach, so instead you’re going to listen carefully to Robin here and if at any point I think you’re not listening, I’m going to put this bullet here in your head.” 

Damian couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He hadn’t been sure, but he thought this might happen. At some point, he was going to call their bluff on killing him. And here was Jason who was known for killing the exact type of scum that he was, dropping from the rafters like a ghost to make sure that what he said was going to be listened to. 

“Nod if you understand,” Jason said, cocking the gun. 

Walter nodded. 

“Glad we’ve got that settled,” Jason said. “He’s all yours Robin.” 

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Damian said, taking a step closer. “I have eyes on your house at all times and will know if you abuse your daughter, whether its physically, mentally, or emotionally. If you don’t hurt her in any way ever again, then we’re never going to have to meet in some other back alley where I’m going to hurt you. We can leave here today and never see each other again. It’s entirely up to you. 

“But if you do hurt her,” Damian continued, leaning into his space, “I will find you and hurt you. Whatever you do to her, I’ll do to you twice. For every bruise you give her, you get two. For every bone you break, you get two broken. For every harsh word and insult you tell her, you get two bruises. For every mental breakdown she has, you get a broken bone. Whatever pain you cause her, you get twice as much. Got it?” 

He nodded, lip quivering. 

“What’d I say?” 

“I get twice as much pain as I cause her.” 

“Twice as much,” Damian snarled. “And if it becomes consistent, then Red Hood over here is going to pay you a little visit and make sure that you can never hurt her again.” 

“I-I won’t hurt her,” he stammered. “I swear.” 

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep,” Damian said, walking backwards. He knew his siblings were doing the same. Knew they were disappearing as easily as they’d appeared. 

“I’m not,” he said. 

With one long, last look Damian faded into the shadows and scaled a beam, leaving Walter Morgan to stew in his own fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. The update is again later in the day than I wanted it to be, but I had to finish it! I literally just finished writing it like ten minutes before posting it and then did a quick edit, so if there's any glaring mistakes please let me know in the comments and I'll fix those. 
> 
> As for why it's late, I moved in on Thursday to my dorm and expected to just be chilling but there's a lot of activities and my introverted heart is super tired from all the social interaction so I just crashed last night instead of finishing the chapter like I should have, and then I had another thing this morning, so I didn't get to start finish writing until this afternoon but I'm done now and here it is and I think it's good but not great, so I _might_ go back and edit it tomorrow and update it, but it's a 50/50 chance.
> 
> IDK if you guys want updates on my college life or anything, but if you do lmk in the comments and I can post a little blurb or whatever here when I post a new chapter lol.
> 
> And as always, talk to me in the comments. I love talking to all of you, it's super fun, so tell me what you thought or ask questions or just tell me about your life. I honestly just love talking to you guys, it makes my day, so yeah I'm going to stop talking now. See y'all on Wednesday.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa meets the BatFam

Damian idled on the curb Monday morning, waiting for Tessa to come out of the house like he would on any other day. The only difference between today and any other day was that three nights ago Damian had threatened her father. 

Tessa didn’t know. Her father was too much of a coward to ever ask her why five Bats had shown up and threatened him. He’d stay quiet, and hopefully would never abuse her again. And if he did… well, Damian would be there waiting for him. 

Movement in his rear-view mirror caught his eye. He looked through it and saw Tessa in her uniform, the black slacks, white button up, and navy sweater vest peeking through the heavy winter coat she was wearing over all of it. It was now December 10th, which meant they only had two weeks of school left before break. It also meant that they had a week until finals, and Tessa had missed the entire week of prep. 

They’d texted a lot over the weekend while he caught her up on the things she’d missed – which wasn’t much. It was all review that she already knew, but they did it anyway. They reviewed everything he could think of until they were both too tired to do any more. 

The car door opened and Tessa slid in, shoving her crutches in the back seat. She was getting her cast off this Wednesday. Her ankle was finally healed after six weeks, and once she got it off he’d make sure she never had to wear a cast again. 

“Hey,” she said. 

“Morning,” he said, handing her the slice of banana bread that Alfred had given him this morning. 

Her face lit up, and damn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. After the sadness on her face, the heartbreak, seeing her smile was like seeing the sun come out after weeks of rain. 

“Thanks,” she said, biting into it. Her eyes closed, and through a mouthful of food she said, “I really missed Alfred’s cooking.” 

Damian smiled and pulled out of the driveway. The bruise on her face was gone, but he knew it was makeup that covered it up. He’d done it enough times himself to know what that looked like. By the end of the week, it should be mostly gone. The bruise on her father’s face, though, would last for multiple weeks to come. 

It’d serve as a good reminder. That, and the nick he’d left on the man’s neck. 

School passed in a blur, the only part that stuck out being history when their teacher had assigned them a project. And they’d gotten to choose their partners. He’d looked at Tessa, half expecting her to just ignore him, but found her already looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he nodded. 

They’d picked their assignment for World History – the ancient Greek period. Tessa had practically bounced in her seat when she’d read the piece of paper that she’d pulled from that hat. It was insanely cute. 

He glanced at her now as he drove her home. She was smiling slightly as she looked out the window, her fingers tapping in time with the music playing from the stereo. His heart clenched. After everything that had happened, he had no idea what to do with his feelings for her. But if he could do this, just look at her when she was happy, then he’d be happy even if he never told her how he actually felt. 

“Hey,” Damian said. Tessa hummed in response, still looking out the window. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye he said, “So we have to work on the history outside of class, and I was thinking that maybe you could come over to my house to work on it. 

Tessa’s head whipped towards him, eyes wide. 

He tried not to notice the shock. Sure, she’d never been there before and they hadn’t really hung out after school except for the handful of times they’d wanted to study, but he’d been in her house. It was only fair, really. 

But he wanted her there. Wanted her to come over, not just for himself but for her. If something did happen, if her father broke his promise and hurt her again, he wanted her to know that she could always come to the Manor. He wanted her to have a space where she could feel safe, and even if it didn’t end up being the Manor he wanted her to know it was there for her if she needed it. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Cause if you’re only saying that because you think it’d be easier and you don’t actually want me there–” 

“I want you to come over Tessa,” he said, looking at her. Then darted his eyes back to the road, coughed, and added, “That is, if you want to.” 

He had to hide a wince. 

But Tessa beamed, the kind of smile that lit up her entire face and made the world a little bit brighter. "I’d love to. I’ve always been curious how the Wayne’s live.” 

Damian snorted. How the Wayne’s live. “When works for you?” 

“Saturday?” 

“Saturday,” Damian confirmed. Five days from now. 

He dropped her off at her house, saying a quick farewell and making sure she got in her house before driving away and heading home. In five days Tessa Morgan was going to come over to his house. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. 

A grin that was quickly replaced with a groan when he realized he was going to have to explain this to his family. 

Maybe he could just sneak her in one of the many entrances into the Manor. It’d be easier. 

No, that wasn’t fair. They’d helped him Friday night when they didn’t have to. They’d cared enough about helping her – or at least helping him – to come with him when he threatened her father. They’d, unfortunately, earned the right to meet her. 

Of course, he’d then have to get them to not act like complete asses. Damian sighed and headed home. 

\----------------------------------------- 

He couldn’t stop fidgeting. It was dinner, and all of them had sat down to eat, and all he could do was fidget as he ate with his food and wait for a good time to bring up the fact that Tessa coming over. 

He hadn’t even noticed how zoned-out he was until Jason threw a piece of broccoli at his head. He caught it and glared at Jason. Why was he even here? He was never here for dinner. Jason, though, just gave him a get-over-it look before asking, “What gives demon spawn? You haven’t said a single word yet, and there were some _prime_ opportunities to make fun of Tim.” 

Damian glared some more before sighing. Now was as good a time as any. “I need to talk to you all about something.” 

“Well this sounds good,” Jason said, tipping his seat back and putting his hands behind his head. “Spill.” 

Cass sent a glare at him – one that Jason completely ignored – and asked, “What is it, little brother?” 

Damian fidgeted with his fork before placing it on the table and saying, “Tessa’s coming over to work on a project on Saturday.” 

Jason nearly fell out of his chair. When he was done flailing her asked, “Tessa-Tessa?” 

Dick looked at Jason with a no-duh face and said, “How many Tessa’s are there?” 

It was followed by a quick glance at him, a silent question in the twitch of his eyebrows. Damian nodded to his brother, letting him know that Tessa was in fact alright. Or as alright as she could be at this moment. The others saw too, relaxing slightly in their seats. 

Jason, on the other hand, beamed and practically screamed, “We get to meet Tessa? The girl you’ve been fawning over? You better not be messing with us Damian cause I have so many questions and have been _dying_ to see what all the fuss is abo– ow!” 

Jason scowled at Dick, rubbing his arm. Damian didn’t care. He was slowly sinking down in his seat and covering his face with his hands because _oh god this is so much worse than he thought it would be. They were excited. Jason was excited. She was going to meet them. She was probably going to run away screaming and never talk to him–_

“This is the girl that you like, right?” Father asked from across the table, his head propped on his hands as he watched his children 

Damian sat up, uncovering his face. “Yeah.” 

Father made a non-committal noise that Damian could only interpret as _interesting_. 

“When’s she coming over?” Tim asked. 

Damian glared. “I already said Saturday.” 

“I heard that,” Tim said flatly. “I meant what time.” 

“One.” They’d decided that an hour ago when she’d texted him about English homework. 

“Do you want us here, Damian?” Father asked, looking him straight in the eye in the oddly-calming way he could. 

“We’re staying!” Jason protested. “I’ve been hearing about this girl for months now, and I plan on meeting her. You’d have to drag me from the– ow! Stop _hitting_ me, Dick.” 

“Then stop being an ass,” Dick shot back. “If Damian doesn’t want us here we’ll respect that.” 

Damian sighed. As easy as that’d make the day, it wasn’t fair. After everything they’d done, they could meet her. Besides, it was an inevitable fact at this point. They might as well get it over with. “She’s going to have to meet you eventually, so it might as well be on Saturday.” 

Jason whooped. Everyone at the table rolled their eyes in unison. 

“Promise me that you’ll be on your best behavior,” Damian said, looking each member of his family in the eye. “No weirdly personal questions or crowding or whatever other weird things that you do. Just be… normal.” 

Tim snorted. “You’re asking a family full of people who run around at night in spandex and fight crime to be normal?” 

Damian glared and clarified, “Normal for us.” 

The rest of dinner was full of questions about Tessa and their relationship and way too many awkward questions about when he was going to make his move and what he was planning to do. Two questions he had no idea how to answer because he didn’t _know_. He was happy being friends. He didn’t want to ruin that with the stupid feelings that he had, especially when she probably didn’t even like him that way. 

After dinner, Cass fell into step with him and said, “If they get out of hand, I’ll lock them in a closet until she leaves.” 

Damian laughed, shaking his head. “Thanks, Cass.” 

“No problem, baby brother.” 

\-------------------------------------- 

Tessa put on five different outfits Saturday morning trying to figure out what exactly she should wear when she was going over to her friend’s house and meeting his entire family – who were the _Wayne’s_ for crying out loud – while also maybe having a crush on him. 

Her first instinct had been to throw on the nicest clothes she had. Which was ridiculous. She was going to work on a project, not to some gala. But still. It was the Wayne’s. And they were rich and put together and fancy and putting on fancy clothes was the first thing that came to mind. Sue her. 

The only good thing was that she’d gotten her cast off on Wednesday, so she could finally wear whatever she wanted again. Damian had taken her, and an hour later she’d walked out of the doctors without her cast but a very stiff ankle that didn’t work quite properly. She still had her crutches, though they were mostly for when she was walking around a lot and her ankle started to hurt. 

Sighing she pulled on her favorite pair of jeans – these ripped boyfriend jeans – and a tight-fitting black sweater, then slipped on her combat boots, partially for the support and partially because they were her favorite shoes, and put on a black beanie and grabbed her puffy winter coat and a pair of black gloves. 

She looked nicer than normal, especially since she put on a little more makeup and decided to deal with her winged eyeliner, so hopefully, it’d be a good enough first impression on the Wayne’s. 

Her phone buzzed, and she had a distinct urge to put on her nice clothes again. She stifled the urge and texted Damian that’d she’d be right down, grabbed her bag, shoved everything she’d need into it, and then went out the door. 

Damian was parked right in front of her house, and she climbed into the front seat and shoved her crutches into the back just in case she’d need them today, and then sent him a smile. “Hey.” 

“Ready?” he asked, buckling back up. 

She nodded and then buckled herself up. Damian pulled out, and off they went. To his house. Where his entire family was. 

Her stomach fluttered. She really shouldn’t be nervous. Alright, she _should_ be nervous, but not for the reason that she was. She should be nervous that she’s meeting some, if not the most, influential people in Gotham, not because she was meeting the family of the boy she liked. 

Damian glanced at her, his eyebrows creased. She tried not to fidget. She knew he was looking her over, making sure that she wasn’t any more hurt than she was yesterday. And she wasn’t. For whatever reason, her dad hadn’t so much at yelled at her once this week. She had no idea why, but she wasn’t going to question it. She’d take whatever good luck she could get. 

After a long moment, he said, “I just want to warn you, my family can be a bit… much. They’re a little overbearing and slightly insane and Jason has absolutely no filter whatsoever, so just… be prepared I guess.” 

Tessa laughed, her nerves making it slightly high-pitched. She coughed, trying to cover it up, and then teased, “Hey, if I can handle you, I think I can handle the rest of your family.” 

At least, that was her hope. 

Ten minutes later they pulled into his driveway, and for a moment all she could do was stare. It was huge. Like, bigger-than-necessary huge. The pictures of the place didn’t nearly do it enough justice. 

They parked, and Damian was around the car before she’d unbuckled just like he always was. Really, it was ridiculous. She would have called him on it if she wasn’t so nervous. He helped her out – another thing she would have called him on – and then asked, “Do you need your crutches?” 

Tessa stopped, rolling her ankle. It was starting to feel better. Still weak, and definitely fragile, but she felt like she could walk on it more than normal. “I think I’m okay. If I need it I can always come back.” 

Damian nodded and then led her up to the front steps. He paused in front of the door. Turning back to face her he asked, “You ready?” 

She smiled, ignoring the nerves in her stomach, and teased, “As long as you don’t ditch me.” 

“Never,” he said, his face totally serious. Her stomach flipped. She’d meant it as a joke. He didn’t need to answer like… that. Like it was something that he would never even consider. It made her feel stupid things that she was trying not to feel. He didn’t seem to notice. He just turned back around and pushed the door open. 

And holy _shit_ this place was nice. 

Everything screamed wealth, from the polished marble to the rich rugs to the paintings and mirrors and art to the furniture sporadically spread throughout the entrance room. The _entrance room_. This was the room people entered in. How nice was everything else? 

They stepped forward, into the actual Manor, with the sweeping staircase and the long hallway that had arches and doors leading off to other rooms. She marveled at it, trying to take everything in. 

She could have stared at it for hours. Probably would have, too, if the barrage of people didn’t shoot at them. 

“Shit Damian, she’s pretty. How’d you get her to talk to you?” said the man with black hair and a white streak who was leading the charge. Jason Todd. Jason Todd had just called her pretty. 

A step behind him was Timothy Drake-Wayne, who was looking at her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve, and asked, “Why _are_ you friends with him? Is he paying you?” 

“Tim!” Richard Grayson shouted, chasing after them. 

“You guys were supposed to behave,” Cassandra Cain said, following Richard. 

“We are behaving,” Jason said, still walking towards her. And he didn’t look like he had any intentions of stopping. 

Damian stepped in front of her and growled, “You are _not_ behaving.” 

“We’re behaving better than expected,” Jason said, crossing his arms as he came to a stop in front of Damian 

“We could have tackled her when she walked through the door,” Tim said. “Or asked really awkward questions.” 

“You _did_ ask really awkward questions,” Richard said, catching up. He put his arms around both Timothy and Jason, hauling them back to a polite distance, and said, “I apologize for them. Feel free to ignore them if you want, they’re idiots.” 

“Hey!” Jason shouted. 

Richard ignored him and said, “I’m Dick, by the way.” 

“And I am Cass,” Cassandra said, elbowing Jason in the side. “And those two idiots are Jason and Tim.” 

“Stop calling us idiots,” Tim said. 

Dick snorted. “Then stop acting like one.” 

Tessa was staring. She knew she was. But she also couldn’t stop, because this was the Wayne family. They were loud, and slightly impolite, and argued, and were _normal_. She couldn’t get over it. They were normal. They were just like other people. 

It really shouldn’t be that surprising, especially since she knew Damian, but it was. It took her so long to stop seeing Damian as some celebrity and instead see him as an actual person, and now she was having to do that with the entire Wayne family. They were people. Normal people. Who fought and bickered and were awkward like everyone else. 

“Are you guys done now?” Damian asked, still standing in front of her. Like a shield. He was shielding her. She couldn’t help the small smile that the realization brought. 

“No,” Tim said, and then flicked his eyes to her. “So is he paying you or not?” 

Tessa snorted. “No, but I should really look into that. What do you think a good rate would be?” 

Jason laughed, the sound almost startled, while the rest stared at her. Including Damian, who looked over his shoulder with something between shock and pride that she’d snapped back at Tim. 

“Fifty an hour,” Tim said, recovering first. “He makes a good allowance.” 

“Must be a pretty impressive allowance,” Tessa said, stepping up next to Damian. 

“It is,” Tim promised. “If you want to break him though you should charge a hundred an hour.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, a smile playing across her lips. 

Dick snorted and mumbled something that sounded like _great there’s another one_ before saying, “So are you going to introduce her, Damian, or not?” 

Jason snorted. “We already know who she is. Damian talks about her enough that it’d be hard not to know her name.” 

Tessa’s eyes lit up, even as her heart skipped a beat. Damian talked about her. To his family. About her. He _talked about her_. She couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. 

She looked to her left, where he stood, and was he _blushing_? He was. Damian Wayne was blushing. He was flustered. She’d never seen him like this. Hell, she hadn’t thought that he could get flustered. Smiling she looked straight at him and asked, “What’s he say about me?” 

“All sorts of thing,” Jason said, a grin spreading across his face. “Mostly though he talks about–” 

“Okay that’s enough,” Damian cut in, his face bright red. “We’re not going to have this particular conversation, especially since we really need to start working on our project, so I’m so happy that she got to meet you guys but it’s time to say goodbye.” 

Tessa rolled her eyes. “But I like talking with them. They’re fun.” 

“Yeah, we were just about to have a great conversation,” Jason said, a wicked smile on his face. Oh, she was going to like him. “And then after we talk about what you say we could talk about all the embarrassing things that you’ve done.” 

Tessa laughed, swaying slightly, and said, “Oh, have I got a story for yo–” 

“We _really_ need to go,” Damian said, taking her hand – which holy shit was that normal when had they started doing _that_ – and lead her around his family. 

“But it’s a _great_ story, Damian,” Tessa teased, unable to help the smile stretching over her face. 

He glared, but there was no heat to it. Especially since there was a smile he was trying to force down playing at the corners of his lips. “I’d really rather not have my siblings know about that.” 

“You can tell us later,” Cass said, her eyes sparking. “At dinner.” 

“Deal,” Tessa said, moving out of the room. 

When they finally reached a small room that was neatly organized with a perfectly made bed, Tessa plopped down in one of the chairs in the room. And then she started laughing. Clutching your stomach, gasping for air, tears streaming down your face laughing. 

She couldn’t help it. She’d never seen Damian that flustered in her life. It was glorious. She’d been trying since she met him to get him like that. It seemed all it took was teasing him when his siblings were involved. 

Damian watched her as she laughed, his face completely blank, and said, “I’m glad you find my embarrassment amusing.” 

Tessa gasped for air. “I do. I really, really do.” 

Damian glared, but she didn’t care. She just kept laughing. 

When she finally stopped, her stomach hurting and tears in her eyes, she asked, “Do you think they liked me?” 

Damian shook his head and sat on his bed, petting his dog. “Most definitely. I don’t think I’ve seen them take to a stranger that fast in a long time.” 

Tessa couldn’t help it – she beamed. They’d liked her. His siblings had liked her. 

\------------------------------------------ 

Damian couldn’t take his eyes off Tessa as she sat in his chair, fighting back laughter. She just looked so… happy. She kept trying to fight off a smile but it just kept coming back, stretching across her lips and lighting up her entire face. It was beautiful. _She_ was beautiful. And looking at that smile made him realize just how deep he’d fallen into the hole that was Tessa Morgan. 

“So whose room is this?” Tessa asked, her eyes finally looking around. 

“Mine,” he said, trying to ignore the little twist of his stomach at the thought. 

Her eyebrows pulled together for half a second before she smiled and teased, “I’ve always wondered what the great Damian Wayne’s room looks like.” 

His stomach flipped. She thought about him. Thought about his room. What else did she think about? What other things went through that head of hers? Did she think about the same things he did, like them–? 

“So where’s your dad?” 

Damian’s head snapped to face her. She was looking anywhere but at him. And her cheeks, they were pink. She was blushing. Why was she blushing? 

Her eyes slid to him and she raised an eyebrow, a silent prompting to the question she’d asked. Right. She’d asked a question. What had the question been about? His… dad. Father. She’d asked where Father was. 

“At Wayne Enterprises,” Damian lied smoothly. He couldn’t really tell her the truth, that Riddler had left a clue an hour ago and he was still at the scene, trying to decode it. “He would have been here but he got called in last minute to deal with some problem.” 

“Oh,” Tessa said, her eyes sliding around the room. She was still blushing slightly. He could barely look away from it. “So am I not meeting him today?” 

“He should be back within the next hour or two,” Damian said. “So if you want to meet him, you can. If you don’t though, we can sneak you out the back.” 

He smiled lightly at her at the last part. She looked at him out of the sides of her eyes, lips pursed to keep a smile from stretching across her own. And that only made his smile stretch, because he’d gotten her to smile. 

Tessa shook her head, unable to hide that beautiful smile. “I’ve already met your siblings, so I might as well meet him too. He can’t be worse than them.” She looked at him at that last part, eyebrows pulled together. “Can he?” 

Damian snorted. “Father isn’t going to attack you with questions or be loud and obnoxious. He is intimidating, but it’s the quiet sort of intimidating when he looks at you and you can feel him judging you. I guess it’s all about which you find worse.” 

Tessa frowned and looked at the floor. Damian watched as she swallowed hard. Shit. He shouldn’t have said that. Now she was nervous. 

Bumping his shoulder against hers he tried to backtrack. “You can handle him, Tess. I have no doubts about that.” 

“He’s Bruce Wayne,” she said, looking at him like he was insane. 

“And I’m Damian Wayne and yet you never backed down from me,” he said, unable to help the little smile that twitched the corners of his lips as he remembered how they used to be. The arguing. The competition. She didn’t once let him get away with the shit he was trying to pull. Didn’t once back down when he tried to intimidate her. If she could handle him, she could handle Father. 

“That’s only because you were annoying,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. 

Titus barked besides him, almost in agreement with her. Damian half-glared at his dog. Traitor. 

He flicked his eyes back to Tessa, only to find her staring at Titus with wide eyes. Shit. Did she not like dogs? Was she allergic? Was she scared? He should have told her that he had a dog. Stupid. He was so stupid. 

Just when he was about to apologize for his dog Tessa buried her head in her hands and _laughed_ , of all things, before mumbling, “I thought your dog was a pillow.” 

He stared at her. She had thought that Titus… was a pillow. A pillow. Who thought that a dog was a pillow? 

“Don’t judge me,” she said, half-glaring, as she stood up and sat on the other side of Titus. Damian watched as she ran a hand over his head, a small smile on her face. He was almost so distracted by it that he missed her saying, “What’s their name?” 

“Titus.” 

“Titus,” she said. At his name he stood up and put his head into her lap, nuzzling into it. 

He looked at her and said, “I think he likes you.” 

“Well I like him too,” she said, making a face at his dog. He fought the smile on his face when she looked back at him and asked, “So, history project.” 

“Right,” he said, shaking his head slightly. He had to focus now. “Ancient Greece.” 

“Ancient Greece,” she repeated. “I was thinking that…” 

Three hours later they’d spread out across the room and both had their computers up, research and notes and layouts for their presentation across both screens. Mostly they’d just been doing the research and note-taking part, but they’d come up with a rudimentary plan that they were both happy with along the way. 

They still had to do a lot of work. And by a lot, he meant a _lot_. To be fair it was their final, but the more he worked on it the more he realized just how much they had to do. And he hated that part, but he couldn’t help but think that he’d get to spend more time with Tessa because of it. 

A knock sounded on the door, and Damian looked up from his laptop and called, “Come in.” 

Alfred walked into the room, a glass of water in each hand and a bowl of chips under his arm. Damian relaxed where he sat. “Hey, Al.” 

“Hello Master Damian,” he said, walking over and setting one of the glasses of water next to him. “I thought that you might be needing some refreshments.” 

He walked over to Tessa and handed her the glass. She smiled at him and said, “Thank you. And thank you for all the pastries in the morning. I don’t know if Damian tells you or not, but I love all of them.” 

“You are quite welcome, Miss Tessa,” he said, setting the bowl of chips next to her. “Damian has informed me that you enjoy them, but it is always nice to hear the compliments in person.” 

“Well, they’re delicious,” Tessa said. “Better than any that I’ve ever had.” 

“If you’d like to stay for dinner,” Alfred said, sparing half a look at Damian, “you can tell me if my cooking is as good as my baking.” 

Damian’s heart skipped a beat. Tessa. Staying for dinner. That was… that wasn’t going to end well. Dinner wasn’t really his family’s forte, since more often than not they ended up arguing and throwing food at each other. 

Tessa looked at him, biting her lip. She was hesitating. And she was looking to him to make sure that it was alright. She wanted to make sure that he wanted her to stay. 

He did want her to stay. So he nodded. Tessa beamed and said, “I’d love to.” 

“Dinner will be in two hours then,” Alfred said, then looked at Damian. “I’ll send one of your siblings to get you when it is.” 

“Send Dick or Cass,” Damian said. 

“I’ll do my best,” Alfred said, his lips twitching up. Damian repressed a groan. 

The door closed, leaving him and Tessa alone once again to work on their project and wait for dinner to be ready. He just hoped that his family would behave when the time came. 

\-------------------------------------------- 

Tessa sat at the dinner table and tried not to fidget. It was hard, especially since more and more Waynes kept entering the room. One by one they’d walk over and take their seat, talking and laughing or arguing – a lot of arguing. She’d seen some of it when she’d entered, but sitting here, listening to them as they waited for everyone else, it was a bit much. This was the _Wayne family_. And she was sitting here, in their home, listening as they all bickered at one another. 

Honestly she wasn’t even sure what they were saying. She couldn’t focus on much besides the pounding of her heart and the butterflies in her stomach that were slowly making her lose her appetite. 

She knew Tim and Damian were arguing. By the way the others were acting, she assumed this was a normal occurrence. She also knew that Cass was having a conversation with Jason about something that they were both into, but if her life depended on it she couldn’t tell you what about. She just sat there, letting their voices blend into white noise while she tried to tell herself not to be nervous. 

It wasn’t working. She drummed her fingers against her leg. 

Richard – Dick, he’d said. Why he’d want to be called that was beyond her though – walked into the room, a large smile on his face and said, “Stop arguing, we have a guest.” 

“Yes, we do,” Jason said. He looked at her, a sly smile on his face. “Hey Tessa, how would you like to hear what Damian managed to do last month?” 

Her stomach loosened a fraction, and the corner of her lips twitched up. Before she could say anything though, Damian growled, “No.” 

“But it’s a great story,” Jason said, looking over at Damian with a smirk. “She’d love it.” 

“Todd, I swear I will murder you in your sleep if you don’t shut up,” Damian said, and for all the world looked like he meant it. 

The thing was, he might murder Jason. He might murder any of his other siblings. But she knew, as surely as she knew the Earth was round, that Damian would never murder her. 

With the most innocent look on her face she said, “But I want to hear the story, Dami.” 

He looked at her, eyes shocked and betrayed and something else. That’s when she realized she’d called him Dami instead of Damian. 

She’d never done that. They didn’t really do nicknames, and besides that was such a cute one. He probably hated it. God, that’s what that other thing was. He didn’t like it when she called him Dami. 

“Yeah, _Dami_ ,” Tim teased, and the look Damian sent him was blistering. “She wants to hear the story.” 

“You don’t get to call me that, Drake,” Damian growled. 

“But she does?” Tim asked. She knew he was pushing. Knew she should probably say something, but she wanted to hear the answer to the question. 

Her heart nearly stopped when he said, “Yes.” 

He wasn’t mad about her using the nickname. She got to call him that. He was okay with it. 

So what was that other thing in his look? 

“Story time!” Jason said with a clap of his hands. “So–” 

“Todd–” 

“Jason, enough,” Dick said. “Can we at least wait until we have food before there’s an all-out brawl?” 

Tessa looked around the table, eyes wide. All-out brawl? What, was Damian going to launch out of his chair and fight Jason? That was ridiculous– 

She glanced at Damian, only to find him glaring at Jason with enough heat that anyone smart would back down. Jason, though, was smiling lazily at him, almost egging him on. 

Maybe an all-out brawl wasn’t that crazy. 

Cass laid a hand on Damian’s shoulder and squeezed, then tapped his chest with two fingers. Damian slumped into his seat, arms crossed and glaring, but no longer looking like he was ready to physically fight his sibling. 

Just in time, too, because not even a second later Bruce Wayne walked into the room. 

He was wearing a pair of slacks and a button down shirt that was slightly rumpled and had the top two buttons undone, looking for all the world like he’d come straight from the office and shucked off his tie and loosed up – which he probably had. Even his hair was slightly mused, the dark mess slightly tangled instead of perfectly smoothed back like in all his pictures. 

It was strange. Here was Bruce Wayne – the Bruce Wayne – and he wasn’t like what the tabloids said. He didn’t look anything like the playboy that always partied. He just looked like a dad, tired from a long day after work. 

Although, he did look like an extremely handsome dad, even with the slight bags under his eyes. 

Everyone went silent as he walked in, angelic smiles on their faces. 

To his credit, Bruce merely looked them all dead in the eye without flinching and asked, “Is anyone hurt?” 

“No,” Dick said. 

“Did you guys break anything?” 

“Of course not,” Dick said, this time sounding offended. 

“Does whatever you’re talking about involve me?” 

“Nope,” Dick said, popping the ‘p’. 

“Then I don’t care,” Bruce said, sitting down in a chair. Then he looked at her and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Tessa. I hope my children haven’t misbehaved too much.” 

“They haven’t,” she said. It was all she could get out. 

Staring at Bruce, she knew what Damian had meant when he’d said there was a quiet sort of intimidation when it came to Bruce. She decided right then and there that she preferred the loud approach that his siblings had taken. At least then she’d known what they were actually thinking. 

This way, she had no idea what he was thinking. She just knew he was thinking _something_ , and she prayed that it was good. The last thing she need was for Bruce Wayne to hate her. God, that’d be awful. If Bruce hated her she probably wouldn’t be able to see Damian anymore. 

The thought sent ice through her veins. Would Bruce Wayne actually do that? She knew other rich parents who had, knew that her own Dad had restricted who she could be friends with, but Bruce wouldn’t do that, right? He’d raised Damian, and Dick, and all the other people in this room and they were open and inviting. He wouldn’t force Damian to stop seeing her, right? 

A hand slid over her own and squeezed gently. She looked to her left and found Damian, a reassuring smile on his face. Tessa felt herself relax. Damian didn’t look worried, so she wouldn’t be worried. She was probably just over thinking everything anyway. 

Alfred walked out with the food, plates full of what looked like lamb with roasted onions and beans and spinach. Her mouth watered at the sight. It looked delicious. 

The room exploded in sound as the food was placed in front of them and everyone dug in without any ceremony. She watched as Alfred took a seat next to Bruce, leaning in close and whispering something in his ear. Her stomach flipped. It might be ridiculous, but she had the distinct feeling that he was saying something about her. 

She looked down at her plate, focusing on the food. She could comprehend that. Picking up her fork and knife she cut herself a piece and placed in her mouth. 

She nearly moaned at how good it tasted. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Damian press his lips together like he was trying not to laugh. She honestly didn’t care, because this was the best food she’d ever tasted in her entire life. Nothing else mattered except for it at the moment. 

It was only when she was five bites in that she realized she should probably thank Alfred for the food. She looked up, only to find him already looking at her with a soft smile on his face. She smiled back and said, “This is delicious, Alfred. Thank you so much for having me.” 

“It is my pleasure, Miss Tessa,” Alfred said. “It is always gratifying to have someone who appreciates my food eating it.” 

She did appreciate it. Very, very much. If she died right now she’d be happy. 

“Hey, I appreciate your food,” Jason said, pointing his fork at Alfred, an onion skewered on the end. 

“I know you do, Master Jason,” Alfred said, a fond smile on his face. 

“Damn straight,” Jason muttered before shoving the fork into his mouth. “So, Tessa, since Damian won’t let me tell you my story I think you should tell us yours. He won’t yell at you.” 

All eyes turned to her. She felt her cheeks heat. 

“Todd, I swear–” 

“You’ll murder me in my sleep,” Jason finished. “I heard you the first time, tater-tot. Problem is that you don’t know how to get into my apartment, so I think I’ll be just fine. Now, Tessa, do tell us this story.” 

“Umm, okay, so we were in P.E. and since I have my cast I can’t participate so I’m sitting on the side and–” 

“Tessa,” Damian groaned. 

She sent him a devilish smirk, her nerves disappearing. “And,” she said purposefully, “Damian is out on the field and they’re playing kickball, and since I’m bored I’m making faces at Damian and he’s staring at me very unimpressed because he’s boring and doesn’t know how to have any fun.” 

“True,” Tim said, then yelped as Dick hit him. 

Tessa laughed. “So I’m making faces at him, and he’s not paying any attention at all to the game, and the ball comes flying and just… smacks him right in the face.” 

“What!” Dick screeched, pure _glee_ on his face. Tim was cackling. Cass was showing more emotion than she’d seen yet. Jason looked like he’d just heard the best thing in his entire life. Bruce… he was covering his face, hiding a laugh, and Alfred was shaking his head with a smile. 

“He fell over,” Tessa said, barely able to say it without laughing. “Just toppled like a bowling pin. I’ve never seen something better in my entire life.” 

“He fell?” Tim asked, looking for all the world like it was Christmas morning. 

“Yup,” she said. “I have a video actually.” 

“You do?” Damian asked, eyes looking at her with betrayal. 

She didn’t feel a lick of guilt as she pulled out her phone and pulled up the video. 

They all watched as the ball flew towards Damian and hit him square in the side of the head, making him fall to the ground with none of his usual grace before glaring accusingly at the ball, all while they listened to her gasp for air from laughing so hard. 

Dick and Jason were howling, clutching at each other for support. Tim was crying. Cass and Bruce snorted. Alfred sighed, like it was almost disappointing. And Damian, he was staring at the phone like he wanted to pick it up and throw it, but then he looked at her and his face smoothed into a soft smile. 

He shook his head. “I’m going to get even with you for this.” 

She grinned at him. “You can try.” 

“Can you send that to us?” Jason asked, still laughing. 

“No,” Damian said, crossing his arms and glaring again. 

“Oh, come on.” 

“No.” 

“Damian.” 

“ _No_.” 

Jason looked at her, mock-pouting. She crinkled her nose and mouthed later. 

“Not later,” Damian said, glaring at her. She shrugged. She tried. 

The rest of the night went by with laughter and arguing and a couple pieces of thrown food. She didn’t say much, but she let herself get lost in it. This, this is what she’d always wanted her life to be like. Loud and messy and happy and _real_. If she could have, she would have stayed here forever. 

But all too soon Alfred said, “I think it’s about time Miss Tessa headed home.” 

It felt like minutes had passed, but when she glanced out the window she found it dark outside. When had that happened? It really felt like it’d been maybe an hour since they’d sat down, but with how dark it was it had to have been at least 9:00. 

She looked at Damian. He said, “I’ll drive you.” 

“My stuff’s still in your room.” 

“I’ll grab it,” he said, then stood up and left. 

She smiled at the rest of them and said, “It was really nice to meet all of you.” 

“It was nice to meet you too, Tessa,” Bruce said, and she felt her heart skip a beat. That meant he’d liked her, right? 

“Yeah, come back anytime,” Dick said. 

“Especially if you have more stories,” Jason added. 

“ _Definitely_ if you have more stories,” Tim corrected. 

“I will,” Tessa said, and Damian walked back into the room. She smiled at them again and stood up. “Bye.” 

A chorus of ‘goodbyes’ hit her, and then she was suddenly at her house and saying goodbye to Damian, promising to text him tomorrow so that they could figure out when they were going to work on the project next. 

She walked into her house only to find her dad passed out on the couch. She didn’t even care. Nothing could ruin her mood. 

She’d just met the Waynes, Damian’s _family_ , and they’d liked her. They’d actually liked her. 

That night she fell asleep smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is basically 7,000 words of fluff and I'm not sorry. It's completely necessary fluff that everyone needs to read because after the last two chapters I think some fluff was needed.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. As always, talk to me in the comments. It makes my day when you guys leave one and I promise I'll respond, so whether you have questions or just want to chat feel free to comment :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and Damian finish their history project

It was the night before the project was due, and they were pulling an all-nighter. Not that this was a new experience for Damian. He pulled these at least twice a week because of his night job alone. Doing it to finish a project was nothing. 

Not that they even needed to be doing this. He honestly didn’t understand why they were. It was practically done. The only thing left were finishing touches, and yet here they were, at two o’clock in the morning, going over things that they’d finish a week ago. 

But if this was what Tessa wanted, then he’d do it. Especially if it meant he got to spend more time with her. 

The last week weeks had been… great. Better than great. They’d spent nearly every day together, both at and after school. Even when they weren’t working on the project or after they’d finished she’d still stay and they’d watch TV or she’d read and he’d draw and they’d just exist in the same space. And she had continued to stay for dinner, a fact that he both loved and hated. 

Having her around his siblings usually meant that he was going to be in deep shit, but that smile on her face when she teased him… he’d take it if it meant she’d give him that wicked, brilliant smile that made his stomach flip. 

And she was happier. She was smiling, and excited, and was talking more and more, and just seemed so utterly at peace. He could still see the signs every once in a while – the way she flinched if someone moved to fast, the nervous look at someone entering a room, the way she’d look away from people – but she didn’t have any new bruises. And she hadn’t told him about any instance where her father had yelled at her, and after careful checking, he hadn’t found any evidence of it either. 

She was okay. She was here. And she was happy. And that made him happy. 

“What does this say?” Tessa asked, pointing at something on the screen without looking. She was on her back, eyes closed. He shook his head. 

“Why don’t you open your eyes and read it?” he asked, scrolling through their report and checking for grammar mistakes, even though he knew there weren’t any. They’d both done it at least ten times by now. 

“Because I’m tired and that’s energy,” she grumbled and swung her arm. He was pretty sure that she’d been trying to hit him, but considering that he was across the room that would be highly unlikely. “Come on, read it to me, Dami.” 

His stomach flipped. He still wasn’t quite used to her calling him Dami. Hearing her call him a nickname, something that he only let his family do, it made his heart pound faster. He liked hearing it. Liked that she felt comfortable enough to use it. Liked the way she said it. 

Sighing he ran a hand through his hair and stood up. He walked towards Tessa and crouched in front of her, staring at her screen. He frowned. “Tessa, this is a picture of Athens.” 

“No, it’s not,” she said, swinging at him. She missed. “It’s the word part about Athens.” 

“Tess, it’s a picture, and we went over the Athens part already,” Damian said, unable to keep the smile off his face. She was really cute when she was tired. 

“We did?” she asked, cracking an eye open. He felt his stomach flip again. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” 

Damian sighed, sitting down fully. It’d become apparent at one o’clock that even though he had no problem staying up, Tessa did. She was not equipped to handle it, and now an hour later she was barely awake. Definitely not functional. So even though sleepy-Tessa was adorable, it was time to get her to bed. 

“I think you need to sleep,” Damian said gently, shaking her arm. 

“Nooooo,” she groaned, swatting his hand away. “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” 

“Tess, the project is done. We’ve been checking things that don’t need to be checked for the last four hours. I get you’re a perfectionist but you’re half-asleep and are no longer productive, so the best thing is to get some sleep so that you can be functional tomorrow,” he said. 

She frowned, which was a lot less intimidating with her eyes closed. “Why do you make sense?” 

“Because I’m smart,” he said, poking her arm. 

“That’s not it,” Tessa said, shaking her head. 

Damian laughed quietly and shook her shoulder again. “Come on, I’ll take you home.” 

“No, I don’t want to move,” Tessa groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes. “I’ll sleep here.” 

“On my floor,” Damian said, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Yup,” she said, then curled up on her side and looked for all the world like she’d actually fall asleep. 

He rolled his eyes. There was no way that he was going to let her sleep on the floor. No chance in hell. If she didn’t want to go home that was fine by him, but she was going to sleep in a bed. They had enough of those in this house to spare one. 

“Come on, you can sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight,” Damian said, grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet. 

Or trying. She went completely boneless and ended up making him half-drag her a step across the room. He let go and glared down at her. “Tessa.” 

“I’m too tired to move,” she complained, curling in on herself again. “I’m good here. Just toss me a blanket.” 

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor,” he said. 

“It’s not the worst place I’ve slept.” 

His heart stopped. Anger crawled up his throat. He was pretty sure Tessa didn’t even realize what she’d said, what she’d admitted. That she’d practically said that her father had forced her out of her house and made her sleep on the streets. Or that she’d felt so unsafe that she’d resorted to sleeping on the streets of Gotham, where people died every night. 

He shoved the anger down. Now wasn’t the time to think about it. Silently, he added it to the ever-growing list of things he was one day going to make her father pay for, but for now, he had to get Tessa into bed, and if she wasn’t going to walk… 

Bending down he scooped her into his arms. She nuzzled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His heart skipped a beat. Damn. Damn it all. He shouldn’t have done this. This was crossing some unseen line– 

No. No, this was just him being a good friend. If he let her sleep on the floor he’d be awful, and this was the only way to get her to bed. This was fine. 

Damian walked out of the room and to the one next to his, trying to ignore the fact that Tessa fit perfectly in his arms. Gently he lowered her down into the bed, pulling the covers over her. She nuzzled into them, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tight. 

And because she couldn’t see, because he couldn’t help it, he pulled out his phone and took a picture. 

Maybe if he had time he’d draw it. He already had a whole drawer full of pictures of her. This would be a good one to add to the collection. 

Silently he walked out of the room and sent a message in the family group chat telling them that Tessa was sleeping over and which room she was in, then climbed into bed himself, ignoring the barrage of texts that his family was sending. He’d answer them in the morning. For now, he’d sleep, knowing that Tessa was safe a wall away. 

\--------------------------- 

Tessa woke up to someone gently shaking her awake. For one, peaceful moment, she laid there, smiling into her pillow. Someone was waking her up. Someone was caring for her. It was such a stranger, foreign feeling that for that one moment she soaked up its entirety. 

Then the moment broke. Reality crashed in. The fact that someone should _not be waking her_ kicked in and her eyes flew open as she scrambled up in bed and pressed her back into the backboard. 

Wide-eyed she looked for her dad, looked for the fists and the pain that would come next, but took in a room that wasn’t her own. 

Her breath caught in her chest, short and shallow. Where the hell was she? This wasn’t her room. The walls were white, the window in a wrong place, all of her things gone – this was somewhere else. This was somewhere _other_ , and she was here and _why the hell was she here?_

She couldn’t breathe. Each breath was too short, too deep, too shallow, too _something_ and it wasn’t helping but she couldn’t stop and take a deep breath and _calm the fuck down_ like holy shit this was a freaking anxiety attack and she knew how to deal with these but she couldn’t do anything she was supposed to because she was freaking out to much holy fucking _shit_ – 

“Tessa, look at me.” 

Eyes blurred with tears and the room spinning Tessa looked towards the voice, so utterly familiar, and locked eyes with a pair of breathtaking green ones. 

Damian. 

“I need you to repeat after me, okay? Can you do that?” 

She nodded. Or tried to nod. She didn’t know if she did, but she sure as hell couldn’t talk when she couldn’t even fucking _breathe_ so she– 

“12 – 81 – 32 – 25 – 112 – 8 – 47…” 

She repeated the numbers, at first wondering what the fuck he was doing and why the fuck this was supposed to help because numbers _aren’t going to help right now Damian_ but soon she got too lost in repeating the numbers that all her brain could think of was listening and repeating what he was saying. 

It could have been a minute or ten later but she took a breath, big and deep and full of air, and realized that she was no longer panicking. She closed her eyes, breathing deep. 

Damian’s voice stopped, letting her breath. It was only when she opened her eyes again and looked at him that he asked, “Are you alright?” 

She nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. “Fine.” 

It wasn’t true. It never was. She didn’t know why she was lying – why she _kept_ lying – but she was. Again. She was so far from fine. She always was after an anxiety attack. She always felt drained and exhausted and like curling into a ball and staying there for a week. But she couldn’t do that. Not right now. Not with Damian in front of her. 

But he gave her a look, one that was both worry and doubt, and said, “You know, you don’t have to lie to me.” 

Her heart twisted. “I’m fine. I’ve dealt with anxiety attacks before. I can handle it.” 

He crossed his arms. “So have I, and I know that just because you’ve had one before doesn’t mean that the next one is any easier.” 

Her heart stopped, her eyes going wide as she looked at him. He’d had anxiety attacks? Him? So many questions raced through her mind, begging to be let out, but the numbness that had overtaken her body made it so that all she could do was stare. 

Damian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I should have anticipated that you’d freak out if you woke up in an unfamiliar place without knowing where you are. That’s on me. But don’t lie and say that you’re fine when we both know you aren’t, tell me what I can do to make it better.” 

She frowned. He was blaming himself. He shouldn’t blame himself. It was her fault she’d freaked out. Her fault that that was her normal reaction. 

“We can ditch school and just stay here and relax, or I can drive you home and you can relax there if you want.” 

“No,” she said. “We can’t miss school. We have to present.” 

“Screw school,” Damian said. “Your health is more important.” 

She smiled, pulling her knees to her chest. “That’s sweet, but I need to keep my grades. How long until we need to leave?” 

“Forty-five minutes,” he said, glancing over her. 

She sighed. Looking at him she asked, “Is there somewhere I can shower?” 

\--------------------------------- 

The entire rest of the morning Damian stuck close to her, always keeping an eye on her. It was sweet, really, but it was starting to get on her nerves. He kept glancing at her like she was some fragile being that was going to break at any moment. Sure, she’d had an anxiety attack, but that didn’t mean that she was just going to spontaneously combust. 

Finally, she looked at him, turning down the radio, and said, “If you have something to say, Damian, just say it.” 

He glanced at her, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m good.” 

Tessa glared, crossing her arms. “You obviously have something to say. Either say what it is or get over it. I’m not in the mood to watch you brood.” 

She was very much in the opposite mood of wanting to watch him brood. All his stupid brooding was doing was making her already frayed nerves fray even more when all she was doing was trying to keep herself together. And it was hard. Harder than she’d ever admit out loud. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t handle herself, and his patronizing glances were making him want to punch him in the face. 

“Are you sure you can handle school?” 

She bristled, every nerve in her body tightening at the tone. At the way he was trying to baby her. No. Fuck no. 

“Alright, Damian, listen closely,” she snapped, her voice hard. He tensed. Good. “I know what I can and can’t handle. If you’ve forgotten, I’ve been dealing with this for a long time, and you know what that means? It means I know what the fuck I’m doing. So you can go and shove your patronizing concern up your ass.” 

“Tessa–” 

“No, I’m not done,” she cut in. “You’ve been looking at me like I’m glass this entire morning. You’re treating me like I’m some breakable thing and one wrong move will send me shattering, right?” 

“Yes, but–” 

“You can shove that idea up your ass too,” she said, ignoring his ‘but’ entirely. “I’m not breakable. I might have freaked out this morning, and I might be mentally and physically and emotionally exhausted right now, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to fall apart at any second. If I was, I wouldn’t be here. I know my limits. And let me tell you, Damian, you’re getting dangerously close to my limit of taking bullshit from someone right now.” 

“I didn’t mean–” 

“I don’t care what you meant. I’m telling you what you are doing and that you need to stop,” she said, looking at him steadily. “I can handle this, but only if you stop worrying over me and trying to make everything perfect and smooth and stop looking at me like I’m made of glass. It’s not helping. It’s actually making everything worse. I get that you’re worried, and I’m not going to ask you to stop, but you need to stop treating me like I’m going to break, okay?” 

There was a long moment where their breathing was the only sound in the car. Damian stared straight ahead, hands in a white-knuckled hold on the steering wheel. Tessa stared at him, breathing hard, and waited. She needed him to understand. If he didn’t, if he couldn’t stop, then he might as well just drop her off at home right now. 

“Okay,” Damian said, his grip on the steering wheel loosening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. I’ll stop.” 

Tessa let out a long breath, dropping her gaze. “Thank you.” 

There was another beat of silence, then Damian said, “For the record, I don’t think you’re weak or breakable. I didn’t intend to make you feel that way at all. You’re one of the strongest people I know, Tess. All I was trying to do was let you not have to be strong for a while.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. She looked at him, her eyes searching, but didn’t find any lie in the words he said. 

But she didn’t know how to answer. What was she supposed to even say to something like that? Thank you wasn’t enough, because that… that was something that no one had ever done for her. Something that she didn’t even realize was something someone _could_ do for someone else. It was such a strange, foreign idea that she had no idea how to answer. 

So she didn’t. On instinct, she put her hand over his and squeezed gently. 

She didn’t expect him to turn his hand so that he was holding hers, squeezing back. Or that their hands would drop, still entwined, to the middle and stay there. Or that even then, neither of them moved to let go. 

But she didn’t complain. Not when it settled something inside of her. Instead, she looked out the window, trying and failing to stop the smile that spread over her face. 

\--------------------------- 

They aced their history presentation. They’d actually gotten the highest marks in the class, something that Tessa was still bragging about to Damian hours later when he was driving her home. 

He looked at her now, unable to help the smile that sparked across his face when he looked at her adamantly telling him yet again how they’d gotten the highest score and how amazing that was even though he was both there and had heard this at least three times already. 

He got so lost in just watching her that he didn’t even realize she’d asked a question until he found her looking at him, an expectant look on her face. Coughing he asked, “What was the question?” 

Rolling her eyes Tessa repeated, “How were your other finals?” 

“Good,” he said. He’d aced all of them, but he hadn’t expected anything less. “I’m glad they’re over.” 

“Me too,” she said, smiling. “Now we have two weeks of winter break before school starts up again.” 

His chest twisted slightly. As glad as he was that school was on hiatus, he couldn’t help but hate the fact that meant he probably wasn’t going to be seeing Tessa until school started again. 

Maybe they could do something. Just hang out, without homework or anything. If for no other reason than to give Tessa a break from her asshole dad. She could come over to Wayne Manor, or they could go to a cafe, or the park, or– 

“What are you doing for Christmas?” 

Damian’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to ask that. The words had just slipped out. That had never happened before. 

Tessa frowned, the light in her eyes dimming. “Well, my dad usually disappears beginning a few days before Christmas and doesn’t come back until a couple days after New Year’s, so–” 

“Do you want to come over for Christmas?” Damian cut in. 

Her head snapped towards him, confusion and hope shining in her eyes. He hadn’t realized that’s where he was going, but now that he said it, he realized that he wanted her there more than anything. 

“We do this big thing with my family and our friends every year, so there’d be a lot of people but it’s always enjoyable and the food’s good, and there’s always more than enough room for everyone so if you wanted to, you could join us this year.” 

Tessa smiled, a grin so big and bright that she looked like she was glowing. “I’d love to.” 

“Okay,” Damian said, returning her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright lovelies, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry that it's a little shorter than normal, but adding anything in would have been too much and combining it with the next chap doesn't make sense, so you get a short chapter this time. I promise the next one's longer.
> 
> As always, tell me what you thought in the comments below. I always love hearing what you think :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas morning and you know what that means :)

Christmas morning hadn’t brought joy to Tessa in a long time. The last time she’d woken up excited, a bright smile on her face as she raced down the stairs, had been when she was ten. That morning her Father had handed her ten dollars, told her that Santa wasn’t real and that she shouldn’t expect presents from now on, then stumbled out the door half-drunk and hadn’t come home for two days. That’d been six years ago. From that moment on, she’d always slept through Christmas morning and then bundled up and drank hot chocolate and watched Christmas movies by herself. 

But this morning as she woke up, she couldn’t help the smile that slipped across her face. Today, she wasn’t going to be spending Christmas alone. Today, she was going to go over to Wayne Manor and spend Christmas with Damian. 

Bolting out of bed Tessa crept to the window and looked outside, looking for her dad’s car. Gone. Not even a ghost of it in sight. Racing through the house on silent feet she double checked, but her dad was nowhere to be found. He’d already left. Or maybe he hadn’t even come home at all last night. 

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was gone and had the house to herself to get ready. 

A laugh bubbled out of her chest as she headed towards the kitchen to get breakfast. She glanced at the clock. 10:00am. She still had three hours until Damian was coming by to pick her up. 

After a supremely healthy breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes she practically skipped up the stairs to her room so she could figure out what to wear. 

Her chipper mood was gone within ten minutes. She had no idea what the hell she was going to wear. The only instructions that Damian had given her were formal since Dick forced them to all dress up and look presentable, which was honestly really cute. She couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face at the memory. Damian had been looking down, his face the softest that she’d ever seen it as he told her. 

She groaned, flopping down on her bed. She was so screwed. In multiple ways. She had no idea what she was going to wear. She only had two hours now. And, probably the reasons she was most screwed, she had a stupid crush on Damian. 

Sure, she’d known about it for a while now. Hell, if she was being honest she’d liked him since day one. But it was only in the past two weeks that the crush had come back with full force and she was left floundering in the wake of it. She had no idea what she was going to do. Not that she could do anything. He didn’t like her like that. All that she could do was get over these stupid feelings, but it was damn _hard_. 

Especially when he did the stupid nice things he’d been doing. When they’d _held hands_ for a solid ten minutes while he drove her home on the last day of school. That’s made her stupid crush flare up so hard that she’d practically had whiplash. 

Sighing she pushed herself up. She didn’t have time for this. She still had to figure out what to wear. 

Tessa grabbed her phone, fully planning to text Damian and make sure she had the guidelines correct even though she’d asked him three times already, but stopped when her eyes landed on the contact _Cassandra Cain_. Frowning, Tessa opened it and found a legit-looking Gotham number and a selfie of Cass making a face as the contact picture. 

What the hell? As far as she could remember, she’d never given Cass her phone to enter her contact. It had to be some kind of mistake. There was no way this was actually Cass’s number. 

Clicking to message the number, Tessa sent: 

> **T: Hey, is this actually Cassandra Cain?**

Still frowning Tessa set her phone down, not expecting a response, and headed towards her closest to dive back in, but stopped when her phone buzzed before she’d taken a full step. 

Brows furrowed Tessa grabbed her phone and found a picture of Cass in her pajama’s and her hair still a mess and the words: 

> **C: Hello Tessa?**

She nearly dropped her phone. Then she reread the text and looked at the picture. There was no way that it was faked. 

> **T: I might just be spacing, but when did you put your number in my phone? ?**

> **C: I found your phone laying around one of the times you were over and put it in in case you ever wanted to contact me?**

Tessa blinked. She didn’t know how to reply to that. One, it was kind of creepy since she had a passcode, so she didn’t know how she’d gotten into her phone unless it’d been unlocked but that wasn’t likely. Two, the fact that _Cassandra Cain_ had given her number to her in case she needed something was so insane that she couldn’t even wrap her head around it fully. 

Putting down her phone because she really had no idea how to reply Tessa looked back at her closet and glared at it. She still needed to figure out what to wear. She didn’t really want to. Maybe she could just wear her pajamas. No one would care, right? 

They would definitely care. It’d be super awkward if she showed up in her pajama’s if everyone else was in formal wear, so no matter how tempting it was she dove back in. 

It was only after five minutes passed that she had the perfect person to ask about what to wear. 

Snatching up her phone she opened her text thread with Cass and sent: 

> **T: What are you wearing? I have no idea what to wear?**

A minute later a picture of a black jumpsuit that was tight fitting in the legs and looser on top with cap sleeves and a cutout in the back. It was beautiful, and Cassandra would look gorgeous in it. 

Tessa bit her lip. She wanted to ask Cassandra to help her pick out what to wear, but was that too… forward? God, she sounded like an ancient schoolgirl. Who even said forward anymore? Sure, it was technically the right word in this situation but that didn’t mean that she didn’t sound stupid using it. 

And, in all honestly, Cass was the most intimidating Wayne. She’d originally thought it was Bruce, but after spending an entire week at their house it’d quickly become obvious that Cass was the one that she should be scared of. The girl was quiet and always watching, and every time they made eye contact she felt like the older girl was staring into her soul. 

Then there was the fact that she had every single member of her family wrapped around her finger. Tessa was pretty sure that she could kill someone and her family would help her bury the body without so much as batting an eye. Hell, she’d seen her stop Tim and Damian from arguing with a single look, and if that didn’t show how terrifying the girl was than she didn’t know what was. 

Biting her lip Tessa texted and sent the message before she could chicken out: 

> **T: Can you help me pick out what to wear? ?**

For three thundering heartbeats, Tessa stared at her phone. 

> **C: I’ll be over in 15?**

Her heart stopped. Her heart actually _stopped_ when she read that message. Because Cassandra Cain was offering to come over to her house and help her pick out what to wear. Cassandra Cain immediately decided that she would come and help her, a girl she’d met a handful of times and hadn’t had a full conversation with yet, pick out an outfit for the Christmas dinner she’s going to over at her house. 

It took minutes for her brain to start working again. She just stared at that text, reading it again and again, not understanding what the hell was happening. And then it clicked, and she practically fell out of bed as she rushed to pull on leggings and a T-shirt because she was going to be here in ten minutes now and there was no _way_ she was facing Cassandra Cain in her pajamas. 

The doorbell rang, the melodic chime echoing through the house and making her race down the stairs. She paused before the door, breathing for a second because she was somehow out of breath, then opened the door with a smile. 

She found Cass standing on her porch still in her pajama’s, the fluffy pants and t-shirt somehow actually looking good. 

“Hey,” Tessa said, opening the door wide. “Come in.” 

“Thank you,” Cass said, walking inside. Her eyes roved around, the same piercing quality as if she could see more than just the surface in them. Then she looked back at her, eyes softening, and said, “Lead the way.” 

“Right,” Tessa said, turning on her heel and walking up the steps. It took all of a minute to reach her room, and without another word, Cass walked into her closet and began looking around. 

Tessa watched, not sure what to do. She didn’t mind Cass going through her closet, it wasn’t like there was anything important in there, but it was unnerving how focused she seemed to be going through her dresses. As much as she wanted to help, there was no way she was getting in the middle of that. Besides, Cass seemed to know what she was doing. 

Ten minutes later Cass came out holding a satin, navy blue dress. The top was covered in lace, and there was a faux sweetheart underneath the lace crew neck. The skirt was simple, just satin cut into a circle with pleats that made the skirt fan out in a circle. 

She remembered buying that dress. It was a year ago, and it was one of the rare times she actually shopped for new clothes. She’d seen it in a store, and even though she had nowhere to wear it something about it had stood out to her. So she’d bought it, hoping that she’d wear it one day. 

She’d completely forgotten she even owned it. And somehow, it seemed very fitting for today. 

“I like it,” she said, sitting cross-legged on her bed. 

“Me too,” Cass said, holding it up so she could look at it herself. “It will bring out your eyes.” 

“Yeah?” Tessa asked, studying the dress. 

“Yes,” Cass said, then smiled at her. “And Damian will like it. We might be able to knock him senseless with you in it.” 

Tessa felt her face heat. “We’re not– he doesn’t think of me– I doubt that would–” 

Cass gave her a look and she shut up, her face turning scarlet. Yeah, maybe she liked Damian and wanted to look pretty for him, but that didn’t mean he’d actually notice. They were friends. Nothing more. He probably wouldn’t even look twice. 

“Go get everything else you need to get ready,” Cass said, now looking through her shoes. 

Tessa frowned, not moving. “Why?” 

“Because you are going to get ready at the Manor with us,” Cass said, not looking away from the shoes. “Barbara, Stephanie, Kara, and I always get ready together on Christmas morning. You are going to join us.” 

“What– I don’t think– I can get ready here–” 

Tessa cut herself off, face heating again. She needed to stop stuttering. She also needed to stop getting so flustered. Sure, having Cassandra in her house was fluster worthy but becoming flustered at everything she said, even if the stuff was weird and unexpected, wasn’t good. She was better than that. Probably. 

“You are joining us,” Cass repeated, smiling at her. “It’s tradition.” 

“You really don’t have to, and Damian’s picking me up so…” she trailed off, unsure where to go. 

“Damian has already been informed that I am getting you,” Cass said, pulling out a pair of chunk heel combat boots. Those were one of her favorite pairs. She’d missed wearing them while she was in her cast. “Besides, we don’t want him to see you before you are ready.” 

“I don’t think it’s going to matter, Damian and I are just friends,” Tessa repeated. 

“We’ll see,” Cass said. “Now grab your stuff. The other’s are waiting.” 

\-------------------------------------- 

Damian watched Cass leaving with a smirk on her face, and he couldn’t do anything to stop her. Partly because stopping Cass from doing something wasn’t possible, but mostly because his best friend was holding him back and shouting after Cass that he’d keep him contained. 

“You can try, crybaby,” Damian hissed, bucking and twisting. 

“Real nice, boy blunder.” 

The door shut, and not a minute later they heard Cass drive away to go get Tessa, who he was apparently not allowed to see until after she was all dressed up and ready. 

Damian growled and slammed his head backwards. “Let go of me, Jon.” 

“Not a chance,” Jon said, and Damian could hear the smile in his voice. “I made a promise to Cass and she scares me a lot more than you do.” 

“Traitor.” 

“Come on, we can go hang out in your room until they’re all done being girly and you can fill me in on any new information regarding your girlfriend,” Jon said, dragging him towards his room on the second floor. 

Damian struggled, trying to slow Jon down, and said, “She’s not my girlfriend.” 

“Sure, not yet, but that’s what we’re going to talk about,” Jon said, huffing. Good. If he wanted to move Damian, he was going to have to work for it. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“There’s always something to talk about, Dames. Like how you’re going to make your first move, and what you’re planning for the first date when she says yes, and–” 

“That would only happen,” Damian said, trying to flip Jon over his shoulder, “if I planned on asking her out.” Unfortunately, he didn’t flip Jon over his shoulder. As they grew Jon still managed to be both heavier, taller, and bulky than him. Add that to the super strength and it was pretty damn hard to beat him. Not that Damian couldn’t. If Jon didn’t have him a hold, he could kick his ass right here and now even in his dress clothes. 

Fortunately, his comment made Jon stop. “You’re not going to ask her out?” 

“No,” Damian said. Maybe if he– 

Before Damian could finish his thought, Jon flew them to his room and deposited him on his bed, then locked the door. Damian huffed, crossing his arms. That was cheating. Of course Jon could move him if he flew. 

“Why aren’t you going to ask her out?” Jon asked, hands waving. Great. He was worked up. “I thought you liked her? The last time we talked you seemed like you were actually beginning to accept your stupid feelings for her and I thought from there you might actually get off your ass and make a move. What changed in the last two weeks?” 

“Remember how I told you I thought someone was hurting her?” Damian said, his jaw tightening. 

Jon frowned. “Yeah,” he said. Then his face darkened, the storm cloud that Jon only got when facing the scum on the street, and asked, “Who?” 

“Her dad.” 

Damian briefly explained the past two weeks. Finding out that Tessa’s dad was the one who was hurting her, knowing that it went on for years, how she’d been completely broken down. How he and his siblings had paid her dad a visit. Jon offered to pay him another one, and as tempting as the offer was Damian promised that if the asshole ever stepped out of line he’d call Jon, but until then he was good. 

He then went into the past week, how they’d worked on the project, and the eventual anxiety attack Tessa had had. Sighing Damian shoved a hand through his hair and said, “She’s got a lot of shit going on right now, and as much as I like her I don’t know if the best thing I can do for her right now is tell her how I feel. She needs a friend, and if I tell her how I feel and something goes wrong, then she’s going to be all alone again. I won’t be able to live with myself if that happens.” 

Jon let out a breath. “You know you’re one selfless dude, right?” 

“Anyone would do it.” 

“No, they wouldn’t,” Jon said. Damian opened up his mouth to argue, but Jon cut him off. “I get where you’re coming from, but let me ask you this; what if you tell her how you feel and everything goes right?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Damian said. He couldn’t think like that. It hurt too much. “The risks are too great. The chances of the outcome ending well aren’t good.” 

“Screw the chances, what does your heart say? What does it tell you will happen if you tell Tessa how you feel?” Jon asked, walking closer. 

Damian frowned, dropping his gaze. His heart wanted him to tell her. He’s known that for a while. But it was still… strange to listen to his heart in this capacity. And he didn’t trust it. Even if his heart said that everything would work out, that there was a good chance based on the evidence that Tessa liked him back, he couldn’t take that chance. His heart was his head, it wasn’t logical, and if he was going to take that chance then he had to be sure that it was the logical step. 

Looking back at his best friend Damian said, “What my heart says doesn’t matter.” 

“So it wants you to tell her,” Jon said. Damian glared at him. “I get what you’re saying, but you obviously like her, and you care a lot about her feelings and what she wants. And if you did date, and then you broke up, would you stop being friends with her?” 

“Of course not,” Damian said. 

“Would you stop talking to her if she rejected you?” 

“No.” 

“Is there anything that she could say or do that could make you not want to be friends with her?” 

“No,” Damian said, “But that’s not the point.” 

“That is the point,” Jon countered. “If there’s nothing that she could do that would make you stop being friends, then there’s nothing to worry about.” 

“Just because I feel this way doesn’t mean she does.” 

“I doubt it,” Jon said, shrugging. “From what you’ve told me, she seems like the kind of person who doesn’t give up on people easily. If you guys have a problem, she’ll work through it with you. The worst thing that could happen if you told her would be you guys not talking for a couple days and then you’d work it out and go back to being friends.” 

“What if it’s not the same?” Damian asked. For some reason, he’d always been able to voice his thoughts honestly with Jon. It felt good to finally be able to talk to him again. 

“It won’t be,” Jon said. Damian glared. That wasn’t helpful. “That’s not a bad thing, Damian. We’ve argued and fought dozens of times and we’re never the same after, but that doesn’t mean that we’re any less friends than we used to be. If anything, we’re better friends because of it.” 

Damian looked down at his hands. That was true. When they’d first met, they’d done nothing but argue. He’d hated Jon’s guts. And then he slowly didn’t, but they’d still have fights where neither of them would talk to the other for weeks. They’d always come back though. Every time, they’d come back and work out their issues and be better friends for it. 

But Tessa was different. He wanted to be more than friends, and he’d seen how relationships end. The mess. The pain. The heartbreak. He didn’t want to put Tessa through that. 

Before Damian could answer he heard the gates to the Manor open and a car speed along the driveway. 

Damian looked at Jon, their eyes locking, and before the younger boy could move Damian was up and out of the door, racing for the entrance. 

He nearly made it to the top of the stairs, but before he could round the corner Jon tackled him and pinned him there. 

Not a second later they heard the door open and Cass call, “Does someone have Damian?” 

“I do!” Jon shouted, followed by a curse as Damian elbowed him in the rib. “Get _off_ ,” Damian growled, trying to throw him, but Jon was using his super strength to keep in in place. 

“Thank you, Jonathon,” Cass called. 

“No problem! Happy to help!” 

“Kiss-ass.” 

\------------------------------------- 

Tessa smothered a laugh as Cass led her down one of the hallways on the first floor. From the sounds of it, Damian was being physically restrained by whoever Jonathan was. And that he wasn’t happy about it. Her stomach flipped. He wanted to see her. 

Shoving that thought away she asked, “Who’s Jonathon?” 

“Damian’s best friend,” Cass said, taking a turn. 

“Oh, he’s Jon,” Tessa said. “I’ve never heard Damian use his full name.” 

Damian didn’t talk about Jon much, but on the two or three occasions that he had, it was clear they were good friends. She was almost certain that Jon was Damian’s only real friend. It’d be cool to finally meet him. Terrifying. But cool. 

“This is normal for us, just so you know,” Cass said, glancing over her shoulder. 

Tessa laughed. “I know. I’ve heard the stories.” 

“Oh, you haven’t heard _any_ stories,” a girl with blonde hair said, a smirk on her face. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Stephanie Brown.” 

“Tessa Morgan,” she said, taking the girl’s hand. 

A redhead in a wheelchair and another blond, this one slightly taller than the first stepped out too. Stephanie gestured dramatically at the two of them and said, “And these fine ladies are Barbara Gordon and Kara Danvers.” 

The redhead who she was pretty sure was Barbara smiled and said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Tessa. Damian’s told us about you.” 

Her stomach flipped. Damian talked about her. Not just to his family, but to these people too. 

“Well I haven’t heard any of it,” Kara said, shooting a look at both Cass and Steph who looked back slightly sheepish, “so I want to hear all the details while we get you ready. From my understanding, we’re trying to freak Damian out with how amazing she looks, right?” 

“Right,” Stephanie said, letting go of Barbara and Kara to hook her arm through Tessa’s and drag her into the room. “We’re going to make her look so gorgeous Damian won’t be able to speak.” 

Her stomach flipped. Did they all somehow know she had a crush on Damian? She hadn’t even met any of them and yet they all seemed to realize that she liked him. Did Cass tell them? How did Cass even find out? 

“It’s not going to work,” Tessa protested, letting Stephanie drag her inside. 

“Are you doubting us?” Barbara asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not at all,” Tessa said, eyes going wide. “I just meant that Damian’s not going to care since we’re just friends.” 

“We’ll see,” Stephanie said, stepping into the room she’d come out of. 

Tessa blinked when she walked inside. It was someone’s bedroom – Cass’s most likely – and it was very pretty. Much pretty than she thought Cass’s room would look like. The entire room was black and white and gray, but it didn’t feel dark, mostly because of the wide-open windows and lights that were strung up around the room, all of which were on and making the place look like it was full of stars. 

For a second she stood there, breathing it all in. Then someone pushed her into a chair and Tessa found Stephanie’s face inches from her own. 

After a too-long moment, she pulled back and asked, “What’s she wearing?” 

Cass hung the dress up with the others, and all the girls made a comment on how pretty it was. Not that it compared in the slightest to the other dresses handing up. The A-line, floor-length purple dress with a swooping V-neck was beyond gorgeous, and the forest green, calf-length, old style dress was something she’d never even seen before. Her favorite, though, was the tight-fitting, bright red dress with a high neck. 

She had no idea who’s was who’s, but she had no doubt that whoever ended up in each of them would look gorgeous. 

“Okay, Babs, can you do her make-up? Kara and I can do her hair,” Stephanie said. 

“Sure,” Barbara – Babs – said, moving closer. Gently she took her chin, moving her face from side to side, then asked, “What kind of look do you like?” 

Before she could answer, Cass said, “Badass. We’re making her look badass.” 

They all looked over to where Cass was holding up the boots she’d picked out. Everyone in the room traded grins. A flicker of nerves shot through her stomach. What the hell was going on? 

Without another question, Barbara took her makeup and began applying it to her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kara and Stephanie helping each other, while Cass quietly did her own and asked Stephanie for help and opinions as she went. Everyone was talking, chatting about things that had happened this week and winter-break plans, and with the music on in the background it was somehow peaceful. 

It was strange. She’d never had this kind of life. There’d never been giant groups of friends getting ready for dances, talking and laughing and helping each other with makeup. It was almost like she was in a dream. 

“So,” Kara said, looking through the mirror and locking eyes with Tessa, “What’s the deal with you and Damian? I’ve heard pieces from Steph, but she tends to be a little spacey when she tells stories.” 

Stephanie threw something at Kara, but the girl caught it deftly and chucked it back, hitting Stephanie in the face. 

Tessa snorted, making Barbara pull away so that she didn’t mess up. Apologizing she looked back at Kara and said, “There’s not really a deal with Damian. We’re just friends.” 

“Booooo,” Stephanie said. “There’s a ton of stories. Tell her how he broke your ankle.” 

“What the hell, why didn’t _you_ tell me that?” Kara said, turning on the other blonde. 

Stephanie shrugged, pulling out eyeliner. “I forgot? It’s not like when we hang out we’re just chilling.” 

“That’s a shitty excuse,” Kara said, crossing her arms. “What’s the full story?” 

“I don’t know, ask Cass, she’s the one who told me.” 

“I only know pieces, ask Tessa.” 

Four pairs of eyes swiveled to her. Coughing she said, “We were uh, we were in P.E. and were playing soccer and we both got really competitive, and we both went in really hard for the ball at one point and… yeah… my ankle broke.” 

Steph laughed while Barbara and Kara just shook their heads. Cass, on the other hand, looked completely unsurprised, if not a little angry. Why, Tessa didn’t know nor did she want to find out, so she looked away and tried not to cringe at her awful storytelling skills and the fact that she was lying and saying that Damian was the one who broke her ankle. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Stephanie said, once she had stopped laughing. “Was this before or after you became friends?” 

“Before,” Tessa said, sending Stephanie into another fit of laughter. A small smile twitched across her lips as she added, “It’s actually kind of why we became friends.” 

She’d never really thought of it that way. The only reason they’d become friends is that Damian was a stubborn ass and when he saw that her ankle was broken, even though it wasn’t his fault, he refused to leave her alone and practically forced her to let him carry her stuff. And then he’d started driving her, and continued walking her to class, and they slowly started to become friends. If her ankle had never been broken, none of that would have ever happened. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Barbara said, crossing her arms. “How does that even happen? He broke your ankle. By all accounts, you should have stayed far away from him.” 

“But she didn’t and now they’re friends now and we get to do her makeup and dress her up to make him twitch so you really shouldn’t be questioning it, Babs,” Stephanie said. 

“He’s not going to care what I look like,” Tessa said. Again. 

“We’ll see,” Kara said, stepping closer with a curling iron in her hand. “Now try not to move too much. I really don’t want to burn you on accident.” 

Two hours, a lot of makeup, talking, laughing, and arguing later, they were all dressed and ready. And as amazing as she looked, Tessa couldn’t help but wish that it wasn’t over so soon. 

She’d been having fun. It was strange, hanging around a bunch of other girls again. Strange, but good strange. And they included her. Even if she didn’t talk much, she didn’t feel like she was on the outside. They’d ask for her opinion, and tease her, and help her when she needed it. For whatever reason, it felt like she suddenly had four big sisters. 

It’d made a smile spread across her face, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get it to go away. Especially when they’d started telling stories about Damian. She’d laughed so hard at some of them she’d cried, nearly ruining her makeup. Not that they cared. They’d been laughing just as hard themselves. 

But as they finished, putting on their dresses and shoes and all the other finishing touches, Tessa couldn’t help but admit that they had made her look beautiful. 

The navy-blue dress fit her perfectly, and with the chunk heel combat boots and her hair in a loose, curly bun with strands dangling out, she did, in fact, look badass. Add to that the black and navy smokey eye with the giant, arching wing, nude lipstick, and this silver choker that had a crescent moon hanging from its center, and she looked somehow both beautiful and strong at the same time. 

And the other’s looked beautiful too. Cass was in the black jumpsuit, her hair half up and looking like some man-in-black agent. Steph had put on the purple dress, her hair swept over one shoulder with some sort of glitter in it. Babs was in the green dress, her hair in loose curls. And Kara, she was in the red dress with her hair pin-straight and bright red lipstick that matched her dress. If she hadn’t spent the last two hours laughing with them, she would have been intimidated. 

Alright, fine, she was still intimidated, but it was less than if she’d walked in and seen them all standing there looking beautiful. 

“So,” Steph drawled, throwing an arm over her shoulder, “do you think we’re going to get Damian’s jaw to drop?” 

Tessa flushed. Sure, she looked beautiful, but not _that_ pretty. And Damian wouldn’t care. She opened her mouth to say that for the umpteenth time, but Cass was talking before she could get a word out. 

“Yes,” she said, stepping up to her other side. 

Stephanie clapped her hands. “Alright. Let’s go join the boys. Hopefully, they haven’t eaten all the little food that Alfred made. If they didn’t save me any of those ginger snaps, I’m going to murder them.” 

“Believe me, Steph, they know better than to eat all the ginger snaps after what happened two years ago,” Barbara said with a laugh. 

“What happened?” Tess asked. 

“I might have tackled Jason because he had the last ginger snap and then gave him a bloody nose when he wouldn’t give it to me,” Steph said with a shrug. 

Tess laughed and shook her head. Honestly, between the stories that they’d just told her and the ones that Damian had, she wasn’t all that surprised that something like that had happened. 

Still laughing, Tessa followed the others out of the room. Maybe this year she’d get to have her own crazy Christmas story to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!
> 
> JK. It's not Christmas. But it is October, which means Halloween! My roommate and I just put up this glow in the dark spiderweb on the door so that's fun, and my mom's sending me spiderwebs and other things cause she's the most amazing person ever. I'm not for sure, but I might be writing a BatFam fic revolving around Halloween but it wouldn't be a part of this fic, so if you're interested as the day comes closer look for that in my other works :)
> 
> As always, comments are always welcome. All the support you guys are giving me means the world to me, and your comments make my day and keep me writing. I seriously cannot express how much I enjoy reading them, I just kinda freak out whenever I see a new comment lol.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Christmas with the Batfam

Eventually, Damian and Jon wandered into the kitchen under the pretenses of helping. What they actually planned to do was steal food since dinner was still four hours off and they this was more fun than munching on the finger food that’d Alfred put out in the other room. 

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. The second Alfred saw them stealing food he gave them one of his glares that made even the Dark Night shrink. That, and Jason slapping them upside the back of the head and then putting them to work because _if you’re going to be asses, then you’re going to have to do the time_. 

That’s how, a half hour later, they were still in the kitchen when the sound of laughter came from down the hall, slowly getting louder and louder. His heart stopped when Tessa’s laugh – bright, real, and freer than he’d ever heard – cut above the others. Tessa was laughing. She was happy. A slow smile slipped across his face. 

Then they were in the kitchen, a cacophony of sound and color, pierced over by Stephanie’s shout of, “Where’s my ginger snaps?” 

Damian rolled his eyes, pointing to the bowl that Tim had set aside as soon as the cookies were down with a note that read: don’t eat or Stephanie will kill us. Smiling happily, he watched Steph walk over to the bowl, pick it up, and shove an entire cookie in her mouth in one bite. 

“Manners, Miss Stephanie,” Alfred chided lightly from across the room. 

“Sowwy Awfwed,” she said around a mouthful of food. Alfred turned, giving her a look. Swallowing, she smiled and said, “Sorry, I’ll stop.” 

“So, what’s all the laughter?” Jason asked, looking over his shoulder as he cut an onion. “Please say you’re telling embarrassing stories about Damian.” 

“We are,” Barbara said, a wicked smile on her face. 

“Hell yeah,” Jason said, grinning. “Did you tell her about how last year we collectively covered Damian in cake?” 

“Yeah,” Tessa laughed, clutching at her stomach. “I think we should do it again this year.” 

Damian turned to glare at her but stopped short when he looked at her. 

He was going to kill the girls. 

His heart picked up, the beat turning slightly erratic, as he took her in. She looked beautiful. Beyond beautiful. With the blue dress and boots and that freaking eyeshadow that made her eyes look like storm clouds, she looked like a goddess. 

And with the light still in her eyes from laughing, that joy that overtook her face that was directed solely at him as they locked eyes, he felt the breath get knocked out of him. He didn’t have words to describe how beautiful she looked. Not in English, or Arabic, or any of the other languages that he’d learned. They wouldn’t do her justice. 

It was an effort to drag his eyes away. He did, locking eyes with the girls. All four of them grinned at him, looking pleased with themselves. They’d done this on purpose. They’d been trying to make his feelings for her act up. 

An elbow in his ribs made him turn. Locking eyes with Jon he watched as his best friend nodded towards Tessa. He frowned. Rolling his eyes, Jon mouthed _tell her she looks pretty, dumbass_. 

Right. He should do that. 

Looking back at Tessa he cleared his throat and said, “You look beautiful.” 

Heat seared his neck, but he didn’t drop his gaze. And Tessa, instead of looking nervous or embarrassed like she normally did whenever someone complimented her, tilted her head up with a small smile and gave him a once over. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

The heat under his skin flared. What the hell? Where did that confidence come from? Not that he was complaining, she should be confident because she’s an amazing person, but did she really need to do that now? It was making his already erratic heart worse. 

“Alright, everyone out,” Jason said, pointing at the door with his knife. “Alfie’s too nice to say it, but you’re being annoying and neither of us wants to keep telling you to stop stealing the food. Besides, you’re just watching Damian and Tessa flirt which you can do just as well in the other room, so out.” 

“We’re not–” 

“Todd you’re–” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t care,” Jason said, gesturing once again at the door with his knife. “Out you go.” 

Grumbling they filed out, swiping whatever food they could as they went. Damian grabbed two of the macadamia nut cookies that had just come out of the oven, handing one to Tessa. She smiled and took it, bumping her shoulder against his. It was only then that he realized she was wearing heels. 

Smirking down at her – because even with them he was still taller than her – he teased, “Do you want a booster seat to go with those shoes?” 

“Ha ha,” she droned. “You’re just hilarious, Damian. I’m dying of laughter.” 

He snickered, bumping his shoulder against hers. She did the same back, though harder. And then someone on his other side did the same, making him stumble. 

Tessa snorted, looking around him at Jon. Damian glared at his best friend. “Really?” 

“What, you weren’t paying attention to me or introducing me to your friend,” Jon said, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

“You know how to speak.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jon stuck his hand out _across_ his and said, “Hi, I’m Jon, this asshole’s best friend.” 

Tessa laughed, taking his hand. “I’m Tessa.” 

“Nice to officially meet you, Tessa,” Jon said, then flicked his eyes to Damian. His mouth tightened, but before he could stop him Jon said, “He’s told me a lot about you.” 

Why. Why did every member of his family insist on telling Tessa that? 

“Oh yeah?” Tessa asked, smirking at Damian. She was enjoying this. If he hadn’t been so entrapped by her smile, he would have glared. “We’ll have to compare notes. He’s told me a bit about you too.” 

No. No way. There was no way that he was going to leave Tessa and Jon alone so that they could talk. The only thing that would come out of that was bad things for him. And possibly for them, depending on what they decided to share. Or bad things for Jon. Definitely bad things for Jon. 

“You all look very beautiful,” Lois said, standing up and hugging the girls. He saw Tessa tense beside him, but so did Lois. Her smile didn’t falter. Sticking out her hand she said, “You must be Tessa. Bruce was just telling me how Damian had invited you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Tessa relaxed slightly, taking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

“I’m Lois, Jon’s mom,” she said, then leaned closer slightly and stage-whispered, “I hope he’s been behaving.” 

Tessa laughed, relaxing more. Damian felt his own shoulders lower. Stage whispering back, Tessa said, “He has. We have plans to embarrass Damian later.” 

What? When had that happened? How’d he missed that entire conversation? 

“Good, Damian always needs to be embarrassed,” Lois said, straightening back up. Gesturing back at the adults gathered on the coach, she said, “The big brute of a man right there is my husband, Clark, but he’s a teddy bear so there’s no reason to be afraid of him.” 

“Hey!” Clark protested, a smile on his lips. 

Lois ignored him. “Next to him is Diana. She’s an old friend, and then next to her is – did you meet Selina yet?” 

Tessa shook her head. Her shoulders were curling in again. Damian stepped closer to her, just enough that she could feel his presence. He heard the soft breath she exhaled. 

“Well, Selina is…” Lois started, the trailed off. Looking between her and Father, she asked, “What are you two right now?” 

Damian snorted. Wouldn’t everyone like to know the answer to that question? They’ve been on and off so many times that no one knew what the hell they were to each other, especially when they kept dating around while seeing each other. Besides that one time they’d been engaged, they’d never really had a label. 

He watched as Father and Selina looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them before they looked back at Lois and simultaneously shrugged. 

Lois rolled her eyes. “Well, they’re complicated.” 

Tessa laughed, eyes looking between Bruce and Selina. Bruce didn’t look back, but Selina did. She had one of her lazy, cat-like smiles on her face, and winked at Tessa. That sent her into a new round of laughter. 

Nope. No way, the only thing worse than Tessa and Jon talking would be Tessa and Selina talking. He didn’t want to even imagine the chaos the two of them would cause. 

Looking at his siblings, he said, “So are we going to play Risk or not?” 

It was a Christmas tradition. Every year, they’d play, and whoever won got to choose the movie. It’d started three years ago when they’d argued for four hours over the movie, which ended up with them not watching a movie at all, so they’d decided they needed a game so that they could actually watch a movie. So they’d chosen Risk. It was the obvious choice, really. 

“Yes, right now, let’s go,” Tim said, half jogging out of the room and into the game room down the hall. 

Dick rolled his eyes and said, “Guess we’re playing now. Someone go get Jason.” 

“On it,” Steph said, hooking her arm through Kara’s and dragging her back towards the kitchen. 

They’d had to pair off. It ended with Damian and Tessa as green, Steph and Kara as pink, Jason and Cass as black, Dick and Babs as yellow, Connor and Jon as blue, and Tim as red. The only difference between this year and any other was that instead of Damian playing by himself, he was playing with Tessa. 

Tim grinned at all of them, grabbed the dice, and said, “I’m going to destroy all of you.” 

Damian leaned closer to Tessa. “I feel like I should warn you that the game can get… intense.” 

That was an understatement. When he’d teamed up with Jason and Cass last year to get Tim out, Tim had flipped the board and called them all cheaters. He’d then apologized thanks to Dick and had to watch as they restarted the game without him. 

“I think I can handle it,” Tessa said, smiling. “Besides, it’s just a game, right?” 

\--------------------------------- 

She was wrong. It was definitely not just a game. Within five minutes that became strikingly clear, mostly because everyone was arguing and shouting and threatening each other, only to become deathly silent as soon as the dice were rolled, then exploded once again as the results displayed for everyone to see. 

It was… a lot. She really should have expected it. From all the stories that she’d heard this made absolute sense, but for whatever reason her stupid brain hadn’t accepted the fact that this family could take a game and turn it into a brutal contest. 

Well, lesson learned. She’d never make that mistake again. 

“Alright Tessa, your turn,” Dick said, handing her the dice. 

She took them carefully, rolling them around in her hand as she counted pieces. They’d done pretty well the first round. Damian had gotten a few countries, and the others hadn’t taken too many of them. They’d mostly been focused on Tim, who apparently would kick all their asses if they didn’t keep him in check and would still sometimes win. But hey, she wasn’t complaining. It meant more room for her to make her moves. 

Picking up the pieces allotted she looked at the board – and then dumped them all on one spot. 

Damian winced beside her. “Tessa, that’s not the best move.” 

“It’s not?” she asked, frowning. 

“No, but it’s okay, we can still win. You just have to–” 

“Hey, let the girl have her turn,” Kara said. 

“I’m just trying to hel–” 

“Shh,” Kara said, putting a hand over Damian’s mouth. Smiling at Tessa, she said, “Alright you can go now.” 

“Thanks,” she said, then called on her first person. Then her next. And the next. 

By the end of her turn, she’d taken five countries and had kept them all relatively fortified, making everyone stare at her in shock. 

She smirked. She might not be good at some things, but strategy? She was great at that. 

“Well damn, Tessa. I guess we’ve got ourselves a player,” Jason said, whistling. 

“Guess you do,” she said, looking Tim in the eye. 

He grinned back. 

Next to her, Damian groaned. 

Two and a half hours later, the game was down to her and Tim. About halfway through the game she’d stopped letting Damian play – not because he wasn’t good, but because he was messing up her strategy. She did let him roll though. He seemed to be good at that. 

Looking at the board she rolled the dice in her hands. If she… no, that wouldn’t work. She needed to knock Tim out of Asia so she could get the bonus. And to do that she needed to… 

She called her move and rolled the dice, grinning when she got two sixes and a five. 

“Look’s like you need some sixes to beat me,” she said. 

Without a word, Tim rolled, a smirk on his face. 

She snorted when a two, a three, and a four came up. 

The rest of them family blew up, laughing at Tim and making fun of him. He flipped them all off. 

“Thank you,” she said, taking the pieces off the board and putting them back in his box. 

“Again?” 

“Course.” 

They rolled until she destroyed that space, along with a good sixth of his armies. And then she moved onto his next one, and the next, until she controlled all of Asia and ended her turn, moving her armies to fortify the edges. 

Tim didn’t get far that turn. He only took back one of the countries, and it wasn’t even the Asia ones. So when her turn rolled around, she got the plus seven bonus. 

Then she decimated him 

It wasn’t hard. She had been accumulating her pieces of the board, waiting for this opportunity. The only place he had pieces left was Europe, and she swept through him, taking countries one by one from all sides until she had his last place surrounded by so many armies that it was only a matter of time before she won. 

And she did win. With her last roll being a six, she watched as Tim rolled a five and lost his last piece. 

She took it, smiling good-naturedly at him, and then flicked it at his head. “Looks like I get to rule the world.” 

Everyone erupted. 

She beamed, soaking up all the energy. She hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Hadn’t felt like she belonged somewhere in even longer. Being here, surrounded by these people who were loud and annoying and kind and everything else in between was so infectious that she wished she could live in this moment forever. 

Damian bumped his shoulder into hers. She looked at him, only for her pulse to spike. He was looking at her with… no, she was wrong. There was no way he was looking at her like that. She was just projecting. 

Leaning in, he whispered, “I think you just made my entire family fall in love with you.” 

She laughed quietly. “Well, I am amazing.” 

“Yeah,” he said, a smile playing in his voice, “you are.” 

She pulled away, looking into his eyes. They met hers unreserved. She swallowed hard. There it was again. That emotion she didn’t want to name. That emotion she was too scared to name. That emotion that could break her if things went wrong. 

“Alright,” Jason said, standing up. Tessa coughed, looking away from Damian and to Jason, ignoring the way her face flushed. “Now that Tim has been thoroughly embarrassed by our dear Tessa, I think we can go eat.” 

“Here, here,” Steph said, standing up and following Jason out of the room. 

“What movie are you choosing?” Cass said, sticking out a hand to help her up. 

She took it, letting Cass pull her to her feet. “Do you guys have Polar Express?” 

“Yes,” Cass said, smiling. “That one is my favorite.” 

“Even more of a reason to watch it, then,” Tessa said, smiling at her. 

With a squeeze of her hand, Cass let go and walked out of the room, followed by the others all talking about the food and what they were looking forward to the most. 

“So, you and Cass are getting along well,” Damian said, falling into step beside her. 

“Yeah,” Tessa said, looking up at him. “You’re sister’s really awesome.” 

“Of course she is, she’s a Wayne,” Damian teased, poking her side. 

She shoved his shoulder. “I don’t know, I haven’t met any other Wayne half as cool as her.” 

“Better not let Jason here you say that,” Damian laughed. “He takes being the ‘coolest Wayne’ very seriously.” 

Tessa frowned, even as she laughed. “Is that actually a thing? Do you guys have a competition or something?” 

“Of course we do, you’ve met us, right?” 

Tessa laughed so hard she tripped. She would have fallen flat on her face if it wasn’t for Damian catching her arm and steadying her, and then keeping hold on her arm until she was done laughing and could breathe properly again, which wasn’t until they reached the dining room and found everyone else taking their seats and marveling at all the food on the table. 

And there was a lot. Like, enough to feed a small army enough. If she hadn’t seen how the members of the Wayne family could eat, she would have been worried about the amount of food, but she’d seen them in action. By the end of the night, the majority of this would be gone. She had no doubt about that. 

By the end, the table was mostly empty. Surprisingly, Jon had kept up with Dick’s bottomless pit, though how he’d managed to do that was beyond her. The boy was tall, but he hadn’t filled out yet. She blamed it on the fact that he was a growing boy – or at least, that’s what Damian had whispered to her when she’d gawked at how much he was eating. Jon had said something too, probably an explanation, but it’d gotten lost in the food in his mouth. 

“Since everyone’s done,” Bruce said, looking at Dick who was shoving yet another spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, “I think we can move onto the movie. Which one of you won this year?” 

“Tessa.” 

All the adults’ heads spun towards her. Tessa felt her face heat. She tried not to fidget. Or let her anxiety get the best of her, but there were five adults staring at her with baffled looks and looking at her like she was some sort of puzzle and god that was nerve-wracking what the hell– 

A hand slipped into hers, squeezing gently. Damian. She realized a breath. He was here. If he was here, then she could be okay. 

Blinking, Bruce said, “Well, I definitely need to hear that story. How’d Tessa end up winning?” 

They launched into the story, and she tried not to die of embarrassment. Voices fought over each other for dominance, shouting out what happened in a chaotic timeline that wasn’t quite linear. And throughout it all, the adults listened, shooting her an impressed look every once in a while. She nearly died every time Bruce Freaking Wayne did that. Like what the hell? Bruce Wayne was impressed with her. That was insane. 

When they’d finished telling the story, Bruce looked at her and said, “Tessa, you’re welcome here any time. If you can beat my children at Risk, then you can have free reign here.” 

For a moment all she could do was stare. Bruce Wayne had just said that she was welcome here. Because he’d beaten his children. What the hell? What the actual hell? Was this real life? 

Then her brain caught up and she stammered out, “Thank you.” 

He waved the words off. “What movie did you pick?” 

“Polar Express.” 

“Alright, in twenty minutes everyone better be in the movie room,” Bruce said. “Who’s helping Alfred with hot chocolate and who’s making popcorn?” 

Assignments were divvied up, but neither her nor Damian got one. When everyone was gone, either in the other room or helping out, Damian looked at her and said, “Before the movie starts, I want to give you your present.” 

Her eyes widened. “Right. Presents. Stay right here, I’ll go get yours.” 

\--------------------------------------- 

Damian sat there as he watched Tessa race out of the room to go get his present. She’d gotten him a present. He couldn’t help the stupid smile that spread across his face. 

Standing up he waited for her in the hallway. As much as he wanted to exchange presents, he also didn’t want any of his siblings being nosy and snooping. Most of them were helping, but he knew his family. They knew he’d gotten her a present. If they could, they’d find a way to snoop. 

A minute later Tessa came back, a green and white bag overflowing with red tissue paper in her hand. His heart stumbled a beat. Her present was bigger than his. Did that mean his was worse? Did he not get her enough? Was his gift stupid? Was she going to hate it? 

He balled his hands into fists, forcing his heart rate back down. He was fine. He was good. His gift was amazing. She’d love it – he hoped. 

Forcing a smile onto his face he said, “Follow me. I don’t particularly want my family to snoop.” 

He’d learned with her the truth was the best. She’d called him on too many lies for him to think he could get away with them anymore, at least the normal kind of lies that didn’t involve his nighttime career. 

Tessa pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “If I didn’t know your family, I’d be worried by that statement.” 

“I think because you know my family you should be worried about that statement,” Damian said, leading her through the kitchen and to the back door that led onto a porch. “You know exactly how insane they are.” 

“True,” she said. He opened the back door, holding it open for her to walk through. Tessa smiled. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said, turning to face her. 

For a moment they just stood there, standing in the biting air and staring at each other. He could hear his heart thundering in his chest. Just when he was about to turn around and go back inside and hit himself for thinking that bringing her out here was a good idea, she thrust out her gift and said, “You open mine first.” 

He took it, surprised that it had some weight to it. Frowning he looked at Tessa, but she just bit her lip – an extremely adorable habit of hers – and nodded towards the bag, so he reached inside until his hand closed around on something leather. 

Pulling it out he found himself looking at a leather-bound book of some sort, but even if he didn’t know what it was he already liked it. The black leather that was pressed into geometric designs was just his style. Smiling slightly he opened it, expecting to see a book of some sort, but instead found blank pages. 

“It’s a new sketchbook,” Tessa said, drawing his attention away from the book to her. “I noticed in class a while ago that you were nearly at the end of your current one so I thought I’d get you a new one.” 

He stared at her, unable to find words. He hadn’t known she paid that much attention to him. He barely ever had his sketchbook out, and when he did he usually kept it hidden pretty well hidden, so that she could see it, and that she remembered that he was nearly done with his, was something that he never expected her to notice. 

“If you don’t like you can return it. I put the receipt in the bag and I know you probably have a million in your room but I couldn’t really think of anything to get you so I–” 

“It’s perfect, Tessa,” he cut in, taking her hand. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said and squeezed his hand lightly. 

He looked down at his hand. Their hands. He was holding her hand. He shouldn’t be holding her hand. She probably didn’t want to hold his hand – but she had squeezed his. And she wasn’t letting go. So maybe she did want to hold his hand. Did she? 

Coughing, he let go of her hand and reached into his pocket, pulling out the small box that he’d been carrying around all night. He held it out for her and said, “Your turn.” 

She took the box, her hand brushing his as she did. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to put his hands at his side and not fidget as she opened the box. It took all of a second, and then they were both staring at his present. 

Tessa gently took the necklace out, looking at the small black pendant that hung from the silver chain. And she was smiling. She liked it. 

And she was going to like it even more when she could see what it could really do. Without a word, Damian touched the matching pendant on his wrist, and they both watched as it turned white. 

Her eyes widened and she looked at him. “How–” 

He held up his wrist, showing the bracelet that had the same pendant. “The two pendants are connected, so when I touch mine yours lights up, and when you touch yours mine lights up.” 

He didn’t say the real reason that he’d gotten it. That it was so she didn’t have to feel alone, especially with all the shit she has to deal with from her dad. He’d gotten it so that with one tap he could remind her that he was here. That even if she felt alone, with one touch, she wouldn’t be. 

It was a reminder that he would always be there for her, just a second away. Without any words, she could contact him. Even if she just wanted the reminder that there was someone out there who cared about her. 

From the look in her eyes, she seemed to get it. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said. He held out his hand. “Here. I’ll put it on for you.” 

Tessa laughed, the sound a little choked. “You know how to put on necklaces?” 

“I have three sisters, I learned quickly,” Damian said, taking the necklace from her hands and walking around behind her. She pulled her hair to the side, and a moment later he clipped it around her neck. “There,” he said, walking back around so he stood in front of her. 

She touched it, and the one on his wrist turned white. She smiled and repeated, “Thank you.” 

“Let’s go back inside,” Dami said. “The movie’s going to start soon.” 

Tessa nodded, and he turned to walk back inside, but before he could she took his hand and hugged him. 

He froze. This wasn’t the first time they’d hugged or anything like that, but the force and swiftness of it nearly knocked the breath out of him even as his heart skipped a beat in his chest. 

Tessa was hugging him. And it was different. Maybe it was because he was thinking of her differently, or because of the gifts, or because of the whole night in general, but he felt his heart stutter in his chest as she wrapped her arms around his waist. 

After a moment where he had to force himself to remember to think, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. He hadn’t really realized until now how small she was. Even with the heels, he had nearly a head on her. Without them, he could easily rest his chin on top of her head. And she smelled good. Maybe that was a weird thing to think about, but she smelled of citrus. He could have breathed that scent in for hours. 

He didn’t know how long they stood there. To be honest he could have stood there forever. If it was his choice, he would have. 

It was only when Tessa pulled away that he forced himself to let go. 

They went back inside after that and found the others sitting with hot chocolate and candy canes on the couch, Polar Express loaded up while they waited for them. He expected comments about where they’d gone or what they’d been up to with way too many innuendos or the fact that they were holding hands, but Dick simply said, “Took you long enough.” And then he started the movie. 

He sat down where he normally did, and Tessa sat next to him, close enough that their shoulders touched. And because he couldn’t help it any longer, and because it was dark enough that none of his family could see, he took her hand. 

Damian half expected for her to pull away. She didn’t though. Instead, she held his hand tightly and leaned her head against his shoulder. 

He didn’t stop smiling throughout the entire movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey losers, hope you liked the chapter.
> 
> So. Since I enjoy talking to you guys in the comments so much and I've been thinking about this for a while, I opened up a Tumblr for my writing in general, so if you want to talk to me, just see what I'm doing writing-related, want my opinions or advise, then feel free to check me out over there (https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Okay, that's it. As always, talk to me in the comments. All this support is really blowing my mind so thank you all so so much for it. I'll see you guys on Wednesday :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after Christmas and it's coming with its own surprise

The light streaming through her window woke Tessa the next morning. Blinking, she opened her eyes, not quite remembering how she’d gotten home the night before. She’d been at Wayne Manor, watching a movie, and she’d fallen asleep – she remembered that much. The rest was hazy. She vaguely remembered Damian leading her to his car and then half-carrying her to the porch of her house, but besides that, she had no idea what had happened. 

She stretched, her muscles going all tingly before she slumped back down and snuggled into her bed again. Last night was… last night was amazing. It was the best Christmas she’d ever had. It had been loud and chaotic and so full of life and love and happiness that she hadn’t been sure that the night could be any better. 

Then Damian gave her the necklace that matched his bracelet, and with one touch they could let the other know they were thinking of them. Smiling she touched the necklace, imagining Damian’s turning white. Maybe he was looking at it right now and– 

She nearly screamed when her phone rang. 

Huffing at herself she barely looked at the caller ID before picking up and saying, “You know, if you got me that necklace so that you could try and track me or something I’m giving it back.” 

“How long have you been up?” 

Tessa frowned, sitting up. “Everything alright?” 

“Have you been on the internet yet?” 

Her heartbeat picked up. He was worried. Sharp. Not at her, but she knew him, knew that this is how he got when there was a problem and he was trying to fix it. He got wholly focused and driven and everything was about the facts and how he could fix it. “Dami, what’s wrong?” 

“Have you gone on the internet this morning?” he repeated. She could practically see his eyes burning. 

“No, I’ve only been up for a few minutes.” On the other end, she heard Damian sigh in relief. In _relief_. What the hell was on the internet? “Can you tell me what’s going on now?” 

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” he said. Like that was supposed to reassure her. “Just don’t go on the internet for the next couple hours and it should be fixed by then.” 

What the hell did that mean? It’d be fixed? How did you fix something on the internet? As far as she was aware, once something was on the internet it was there forever. Wasn’t that what they’d been teaching them since middle school? That all the stupid shit they did online would haunt them forever? 

She stood up, walking towards her window. She couldn’t sit still anymore. “Damian that’s not helpful. You can’t just tell me that there’s a problem and to not go on the internet and then not tell me what – _shit_.” 

For a moment all she could do was stand there and look at the swarm of people outside her house. With cameras. There were dozens of people with cameras outside her house. And they were all pointing them at her. Why were they pointing at her? 

The first camera flashed. She blinked. Shit. She nearly dropped her phone as she tugged her curtains shut and then pressed her back against the wall next to the window. 

What the hell? Those were… those were reporters outside her house. Why the hell were there reporters outside her house? Not that she’d never dealt with them before, that just came with her dad being a politician, but why were they taking pictures of _her_? 

Thank god to whatever part of her not-functioning brain had thought to pull the curtains shut. Standing there and letting them take pictures of her when she had just rolled out of bed and looked like it was not something she needed. Or wanted. Hell, she didn’t want them to have any pictures of her, good or bad. 

Distantly she heard Damian speaking through the phone. Shaking her head she tuned back in, hearing him say, voice slightly frantic, “Tessa? Tessa, what happened? Tessa answer the phone or I’m coming over there.” 

“I’m good,” she said, heart pounding for two completely different reasons. 

A sigh came from the other end of the line. “What happened?” 

“There’s uh… there’s reporters outside my house,” Tessa said, still trying to wrap her head around it. 

Why would they want pictures of her? It wasn’t like she’d done anything recently, and as far as she knew neither had her dad. Either way, if her dad had done something, they wouldn’t want pictures of her when she’d first woken up. Maybe they just had the wrong house? “ _What?_ ” Damian growled, so much anger in his voice that Tessa blinked. 

“There’s… dozens… of them,” Tessa said slowly, frowning. 

“They shouldn’t be there,” he muttered, and then she heard him distantly scream at someone in his house. 

“Well no shit they shouldn’t be there,” she said, letting her anger come. Him stating the obvious wasn’t helping this shitty situation. “But they are, and they all just took my sleepy-eyed picture when I walked over to the window so that’s just wonderful. I definitely want them to have that since I no doubt look amazing in it. I mean really, who doesn’t look amazing when they roll out of be–” Tessa stopped. Just stopped. 

There was no way. She had to be wrong. What she was considering was insane. But… 

Slowly, she said, “Damian, please tell me that this isn’t related to the problem that you called me about.” 

Silence. 

She felt each heartbeat in her chest. 

“Damian.” 

He still didn’t answer. 

Butterflies erupted in her stomach. Not the good kind, but the kind that fluttered around so violently that you felt like you were going to be sick. 

“Damian, what’s on the internet?” she demanded, swallowing hard. 

Part of her didn’t want him to answer. She knew she was right at this point – his non-answer had been enough to confirm that. That meant whatever was on the internet involved her, and the part of her that wanted to pretend everything was okay wanted nothing more than to cover her ears and let Damian fix it. 

Then the larger part of her, the part that was banging around in her head, was demanding an answer to the question and wouldn’t settle for anything less. It was that part of her that made her say, her voice unyielding, “You have three seconds to tell me before I go online and find out myself.” 

He cursed. “There may be some pictures of you on the internet coming to the manor last night, and pictures of us on the porch, and then when I dropped you off at your house.” 

Her heart stopped. Slowly, she slid down the wall, clutching the phone to her ear. 

This couldn’t be happening. There couldn’t be pictures of her and Damian Wayne online. No. There was no way. This couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be right. There had to be some sort of mistake. 

Hands shaking, she pulled her phone away from her ear and opened the internet, typing in her name and Damian’s. He had to be wrong. This was some kind of elaborate joke. There weren’t any pic– 

The first result of them was a picture of them hugging on Damian’s porch. 

She felt each thud in her chest, the pounding of her heart slowed down to a fraction of a second as she clicked on the picture and looked at them. At the way she had balled her hands into the back of Damian’s shirt, how his arms were wrapped tightly around her, how his head rested against the crown of her own, how she could see her own face, smiling slightly and her eyes closed. How she could see the soft smile on Damian’s face. 

It was real. There were really pictures. This was happening. 

Her breath caught in her throat, her chest squeezing painfully. There were pictures of her on the internet. Pictures of her and Damian. Pictures of them when there shouldn’t have been any cameras to see them. Pictures that showed oh so clearly how much she cared about him. Pictures that everyone, everywhere, were going to see because he was _Damian Wayne_ and any new person that was seen with the Waynes was blown up until everyone knew more about them than they should. 

People would dig into her. They would find out everything they could about her. They’d find out how her mom had left, about the trips to the hospital, the bruises that she’d always been so careful to hide, the secrets she’d worked so hard to keep – if they dug, really dug, they’d find out about her dad. 

Tears blurred her vision. She’d lose her anonymity. Everyone would pay attention. Everyone would want to _talk to her_. They’d swarm her and invade her privacy and throw her entire life bare so that anyone who wanted to know could find out who she was. 

Her entire life had been about not being seen. She’d worked so hard to be forgettable, to be nothing more than a face in a crowd, and now all that was gone because of one night and a couple pictures. 

She should have known this would happen. There was only so long that she could be friends with someone as famous as Damian Wayne before someone took notice. And she had known – somewhere, deep inside her, she’d known that this would happen, but she had convinced herself it wouldn’t. She’d told herself that if she tried hard enough and was careful enough that she could be friends with Damian while still staying out of the spotlight. 

A sob tore its way out of her throat. She was wrong. So wrong. And now everything had blown up in her face. 

And the world… the world thought they were dating. That’d been the first article. _**Does Damian Wayne have a New Girlfriend?**_ That – that was just another cut. A reminder that even if that’s what she wanted, she could never have it; not because he didn’t like her, but because she couldn’t live in this kind of world. 

It wasn’t possible. Not with her dad. Not with what he did, with all the things that he has done to her, not when people would put her under a microscope and they’d find out not just her secrets but his as well. She couldn’t live in that kind of life even if she wanted to. Her dad wouldn’t allow it. He’d– 

The sharp ring of her phone cut through her thoughts. 

She glanced down at her screen. Damian’s face lit up her screen, a picture she’d taken when they were driving to school and he’d been eating one of Alfred’s pastries. There was just a little bit of powdered sugar on his nose that he’d somehow gotten there, and he was doing that half smile thing as he glanced at her. It was her favorite picture of him. 

She picked up the phone. 

“What happened?” Damian asked. “Are you okay? Did the press do something? Do–” 

“They think we’re dating,” she said, voice shaking. 

It was the first thing that came passed her lips. The one, striking thing that made this so much worse because… because… 

Because she liked him. Because more than anything, the secret wish that she’d held deep in her heart was that she did want to date him but she couldn’t. 

“I know,” Damian said softly, the fervor in his voice draining away. “We’re working to fix it, I swear, but you’re going to have to give us some time so until then you–” 

“Would it be so bad?” she whispered. 

She froze. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she said, her voice coming out hoarse. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Tessa, you don’t have to–” 

“Just pretend I didn’t say anything.” 

“Tess, just lis–” 

“Bye, Damian.” 

She hung up. She didn’t want to listen. If she had to hear him explain why them dating would be such a bad thing in a kind, let-you-down-easy way, she was going to break. There would be no stopping it. She was already dangerously close to the edge. One wrong breath and she’d go plummeting over and fall into an anxiety attack. 

Her phone buzzed, that picture of Damian lighting up her screen. She watched it until it faded to black. 

Tea. She needed some tea. 

Pushing up to her feet she walked to her door and opened it. Her dad wasn’t home. If he was, he would have banged on her door long ago and asked why all the reporters were there. For today, at least, she didn’t have to deal with him. For today, she could deal with the problem without having to worry what he’d do to her. 

Phantom bruises pulsed on her arm. She shoved the thought away, turning on the electric kettle. Her phone buzzed on the counter. She got her tea instead, ignoring the sound that was Damian calling her again. 

When her phone buzzed a third time, she let the sound of the kettle drown it out. She listened to the bubbling instead, letting the consistent drone dull her nerves. 

The ring of the kettle came at the same time as the fourth call. Tessa picked up the kettle and poured it into her mug, relishing in the steam and the slightly-sweet sent of her lemon tea. She held it close to her face, letting the steam float into her face. 

Her phone buzzed, a different tone than her call. Sighing she put down her mug and read the text. 

> **D: Tess pick up the phone or I’m coming over there.**

Tessa frowned. He wouldn’t. That’d be… that’d be insane. With the press out there, it would be a media hell storm if he showed up at her house. It’d only add more fuel to the fire. It’d make the entire problem that much harder to fix. 

Her phone rang, Damian’s face lighting up her screen. She drank her tea. 

> **D: I’m not lying Tess. Call me within the next minute or I’m coming over.**

She bit her lip. She knew Damian. She was pretty good at predicting what he’d do, but this… when it came to her, when she was hurting or in trouble, he hadn’t stopped until he’d gotten to her. He hadn’t once ever left her alone. And this… this felt like one of those situations. If he thought coming here was what he had to do, then he’d damn the consequences. 

But she couldn’t let him come. It wouldn’t help fix this problem, and she needed it to be fixed. 

Sighing she picked up her phone. 

“Tessa–” 

“Stop,” she said, chest hollow. “I don’t have the energy to do this.” 

“But–” 

“Damian, drop it.” She hated the way her voice shook. The way the tea in her hands threatened to slosh out of its cup. 

Damian went quiet on the other end. She counted her heartbeats. At least her voice shaking had gotten him to stop. At least they weren’t going to go over her stupid, pointless comment over the phone. She wouldn’t be able to handle that. Wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to handle that conversation, whether it was over the phone or not. 

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll drop it, but you’re going to come to the manor.” 

She snorted. “If you haven’t heard, there’s a bunch of reporters outside my house. I can’t exactly just walk outside right now.” 

“Dick and Jason are coming to get you.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. “And what if I want to stay here?” 

“Do you?” 

She frowned, taking a sip of tea. No. She didn’t want to stay here. Being alone in her house with a mob outside was messing with her anxiety. But going to the manor… that might just be worse. If she went there she’d have to face Damian’s worry and have him talk to her about what she’d said she might just break down. But… 

“When will they be here?” 

“Twenty minutes,” he said. She could practically hear the relief in his voice. “You need to pack a bag with two nights of clothes, and then put on a jacket with a hood and a pair of sunglasses. It’ll help keep the pictures unusable.” 

“Okay,” she said. 

She stayed there, holding the phone to her ear for no other reason than to listen to the silence and let it soothe the hole that was gaping in her chest. 

“You should go get ready,” Damian said minutes later. 

She sighed. “Yeah.” 

She didn’t move. From the silence on the other end, neither did Damian. She breathed in the silence, letting it fill the hole in her chest. Normally, the silence was what drove her insane. But sitting there, knowing Damian was with her even if he wasn’t physically there, made the silence peaceful. 

A sigh echoed through the phone. “Go get ready,” Damian said. “I’ll be here when you arrive.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

She nodded. “Okay. See you soon.” 

“See you soon.” 

The end-tone beeped in her ear. Sighing she lowered her phone from her ear and put it on the table. 

She should get ready. She should stand up, go up to her room, put on some clothes, and pack the bag that Damian said she should pack. She should find her sunglasses and that jacket with the fur on the hood so that she could block her face. She should move. 

She took a sip of her tea. 

This was… this wasn’t going to end well. As she held the phone to her ear, she’d realized that. However this turned out, whether they fixed it or not, whether the world thought they were dating or not, this was going to end badly for her. Not because of what they thought, but because of the conversation she knew she and Damian were going to have. 

He wouldn’t drop it. She knew him to well to believe that. When she got to the manor, they were going to talk about what she said. Damian would ask her what she meant even though they both knew, and she’d tell him. She’d tell him that she liked him, that she had feelings for him, and then tell him that even though she liked him she could never date him. At this point, she wasn’t even sure they could be friends anymore. 

The world was looking at her, and whether they were friends or dating they would keep looking at her and she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let the world look at her and ruin everything that she’d been working towards. She couldn’t let them find out what was happening and bring her Dad’s anger on herself. It’d ruin her future. It’d ruin her chance of getting out. If anyone found out, if anyone knew, then she’d be stuck with her dad looming over her head for the rest of her life. 

A tear slipped down her face. She shoved it away. She hated him. She hated her dad. He’d already made her lose everything, made her lose herself, and now that she had finally found a friend again he was going to force her to lose him too. 

And she would lose Damian. If she told him she liked him and he said those words back – and he most likely would, after what had happened last night, after all the looks and touches had suddenly clicked in her head and left her with the startling realization that Damian Wayne most likely liked her too – and she then said that they couldn’t, that she didn’t want to do anything, that she couldn’t, she’d lose him. 

Huffing she stood up. She had to get ready. There was no use in dragging her feet. One way or another, this was going to happen. She’d known that from the start, even if she’d never admitted it to herself. It was time to face the music that she’d played herself. 

When the doorbell rang she was ready. Sighing she walked down to the door and opened it. The sound of shouting and click of cameras were muted. She could hear it, felt the impact of them even as she used the door as a shield, but she didn’t really _feel_ it. It was like she was experiencing everything from a distance. 

Dick and Jason poured in, a riot of sound and motion as Dick dragged a cursing Jason into her house. 

“Fucking reporters always being so fucking nosy. Why can’t the just fuck off and mind their own fucking business?” Jason mumbled as soon as the door was closed. He shook off Dick and walked further into the house, sitting down on the couch. 

“Ignore him,” Dick said, smiling at her. “Are you alright? Have they done anything bad yet? Cause we can sick Jason on them if they have.” 

“Damn right you can,” he said, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “I’ll beat all their asses.” 

Tessa couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, even if their words sent a pang through her chest. If she was really going to go through with this, then she wouldn’t get this anymore. She wouldn’t have any of these people looking after her. 

She forced the smile to stay on her face as she said, “I think we can skip that part. They’ve just been standing out there except for when I went to the window.” 

“Good,” Dick said. “Do you have a bag packed?” 

“Yup,” she said, holding it up. 

“Give the bag to Jason,” Dick said, then reached over and pulled her hood up. She froze, her breath stopping in her throat. He did it so casually. Like it was nothing to help her, to do this for her. From the practiced ease and the way Jason didn’t so much as react, this was normal. Dick just did this – but of course he did. He was the big brother. He grew up helping his younger siblings. 

“I can carry it,” she said, clearing her throat. It was taking all her energy not to fidget. 

“It’s easier if he does. And they’ll look at it less if he’s the one holding it,” Dick said, still fiddling with her hood. 

“But–” 

“Hand it over, Tessa,” Jason said, standing up and walking towards her. 

She sighed. What was it with Wayne men and wanting to carry her stuff? “Don’t break my computer.” 

“I’ll do my best,” he said, flashing her a smile. 

“Alright,” Dick said. “Alfred’s waiting directly outside the house, so all we have to do is walk straight ahead through three dozen reporters. Easy-peasy.” 

“If you say so,” Tessa muttered, shifting from foot to foot. 

“I do,” he said, meeting her eyes. Or part of her eyes. The fur was obscuring most of her vision. “Jay, you’re in front. Try not to punch any of them.” 

Jason’s answering smile wasn’t reassuring. 

“Tessa, I need you to keep your hands up, in front of your face,” Dick said, showing her with his own arms. “Hold your hood if you want, I really don’t care as long as they’re up. Duck your head, and walk straight. I’ll point you in the right direction, but follow Jason in front of you, alright?” 

She nodded. Head down. Arms up. Walk straight. She could do that. 

“Good. On three then. One. Two. Three.” 

It was a blur of cameras and flashing light and voices of reporters asking for comments. The sound washed over her, a wave crashing into her and knocking the breath out of her, even as she felt numb to it all, which didn’t make any _sense_ because how could she be numb and feel everything so acutely at the same time? 

If it wasn’t for Dick’s hand on her back she probably would have stopped right there and just let them take her. But his hand was there, gently guiding her forward, and his words were echoing in her head. So she followed his instructions and kept walking, her eyes locked on Jason’s heels and her arms up to shield her face. 

Then Jason was stepping to the side and the door of a car flashed into her view. Dick guided her in, a hand on her head, then slipped in after her. A moment later Jason was sitting across from them and the door was closed, and they were driving off towards Wayne Manor. 

Tessa pushed her hood off and sucked in a giant breath, chest tight. Dick’s hand rubbed circles on her back. It was weird that it helped. Usually contact set her off more. Closing her eyes she breathed in deeply, forcing her air into her lungs and doing the exercises that helped her anxiety attacks. 

When she took her head out of her hands Dick asked, a gentle smile on his face, “You alright?” 

She nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, it was… it was just a lot.” 

“You did a really good job,” Dick said. “Much better than most people would.” 

She gave him a look that was supposed to say thanks-for-lying, but Dick had turned his attention to Jason, something between resignation, annoyance, and fondness on his face as he asked, “Did you really need to flip them off?” 

Tessa looked at Jason, a small smile tracing her lips. He shot her a rogue smile and said, “They were harassing her. It was the least I could do.” 

That same bittersweet feeling shot through her chest. 

“Master Jason, I thought we agreed you’d do no such thing?” 

“Sorry Alfie,” Jason said. “It was for a good cause.” 

“I’m sure it was, but do try not to let it happen again.” 

Once she was sure they were done, Tessa said, “Hello, Alfred.” 

“Hello, Miss Tessa,” Alfred said, catching her eye in the mirror. “Are you quite alright?” 

“I’m alright.” 

“That is good to hear,” he said with a smile. “We shall be arriving in less than five minutes and you won’t have to worry about the press anymore.” 

“Thank you,” she said, then looked at Dick and Jason. “All of you.” 

She didn’t mean for just today. Even if she couldn’t say it out loud, she was saying thank you for the past two weeks. For letting her come to their home and making her feel welcome, for giving her a place where she felt safe. For letting her pretend for a little while that everything was okay. 

“Don’t mention it,” Dick said, bumping his shoulder against hers. “You’re Damian’s friend, which means that you’re practically family.” 

“Yeah, if the demon brat cares about you then we all care about you,” Jason said. 

Her heart stopped. She looked between the two. They didn’t mean that. Couldn’t. They couldn’t think of her as part of their family. Not for the simple, pointless reason that she was Damian’s friend. That… that didn’t make any _sense_. It went against every bit of logic that she had. 

“I’ve only known you for two weeks.” 

“And?” 

She frowned. “And what?” 

“And why does that matter?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow. “We know enough about you from Damian and these past two weeks that we know we like you. And Damian trusts you – which isn’t an easy feat, by the way – so the rest of us do as well. In this family, when we trust someone, that’s when we accept them. Since you have our trust you are part of the family. It’s as simple as that.” 

She swallowed hard, looking down at her hands. 

Why? Why did they have to do this? How did she end up here? With the Wayne’s surrounding her, a group of people that were everything that rich people weren’t supposed to be, caring about her and accepting her? When did her life take this wonderful turn? 

It was after the awful one. That day her ankle was sprained. That’s when all of this started. When this wonderful dream began. 

But it was a dream, and it was time for her to wake up. No matter how much she wanted to stay asleep. 

Fighting back tears she looked out the window for the rest of the ride to the Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know, cliffhanger-ish. Sorry. We all knew it was going to happen eventually. And really, this one isn't that bad.
> 
> Soooooooo, let's talk for half a minute. I'm going to be doing NanNoWriMo in November, which means I'm writing 50K in a month. Yay. I'm super excited. I've got this really awesome story idea that's been bugging me for a while and writing it is going to be so much fun. BUT that means I'm probably not going to have as much time to work on this story in November. I know. It sucks. I'm hoping to get enough chapter done this month that I can keep this update schedule, but I've been barely keeping my one-chapter barrier recently so I don't know how many I can actually get done. Which means that this is a very pre-warning that I might not be updating as much in November. I'll update you guys as soon as I know what's actually going to happen.
> 
> Alright. Enough of that. As I said last time, I made a Tumblr for this account. I'm posting little excerpts and just other fun batfam and other fandom things as well as little things happening in my life, so if you want to follow me there you can. I'd love to talk to you there, especially since I can't here except in comments, so if you have anything any questions or just want to chat hit me up over there.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/)
> 
> As always, comment if you have anything to say. They seriously make my day. :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and Damian have a hard conversation at Wayne Manor

Damian practically tackled her when she walked inside. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, hands going to her shoulder as his eyes scanned her. 

She stopped, a wave of emotions swarming her so fast that she thought she was going to drown. This might be the last time Damian did this. She wouldn’t get to see the fierce stance of his body even as his eyes were impossibly soft. Would get to feel the way the world seemed to narrow down to only the two of them when their eyes locked. How he’d touch her without thinking because they were just that comfortable with each other. 

Swallowing hard she forced back the tears and put a smile on her face. If she hadn’t had years of practice she would have started sobbing right there. Even with the practice, she was so close to breaking she could practically feel the ground shaking beneath her. 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” she teased, shoving his chest gently. He just looked at her, waiting. She made her smile brighter and forced herself to roll her eyes. “I’m fine.” 

“Are you?” he asked, his eyes scanning her face. “Because you’re wearing your mask so I don’t think you are.” 

Her face fell. How the hell could he tell? No one had been able to tell before. 

But of course he could. Of course Damian would be the one person to see through it. He was the one person who always seemed to pay attention to her. It made sense that he could see through her. She wished he couldn’t. It only made this harder. 

The one thing she’d always wanted was for someone to see through her mask. For someone to care about her enough to really look and say that she was hurting and that they saw it. And Damian saw it. Again and again. And now she was going to have to say goodbye. 

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. 

“Hey,” Damian said softly, a hand tipping her chin up so their eyes met. “It’s going to be alright, Tess. This isn’t the first time we’ve dealt with the media. It’ll be handled. I promise.” 

Her heart clenched. That was another thing she was going to miss. Him calling her Tess. 

She should say it now. Just get it over with and bite the bullet. 

“I know,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. _Coward_. 

He wrapped his arms around her. For a moment, she just let herself feel the moment. To let herself be happy, and feel safe, and feel like someone cared for her. She wanted to remember this feeling. Wanted to remember what it felt like to hug Damian. 

Before she was ready to let go Damian was pulling away. Their eyes locked, and she saw the words in his eyes before he said them. “Can we talk?” 

Her heart squeezed painfully. 

“Yeah,” she said, the word sticking in her mouth. 

“Okay,” he said, hand sliding down her arm and fitting into her own. 

She let him pull her through the house, their hands entwined. It was her tether. Without it, she would have run. Would have taken off and wouldn’t stop until she was far away and didn’t have to face the reality of what she was about to do. But their hands were connected and she couldn’t pull away if she tried. The small, weak, cowardly part of her wanted to hold onto the connection for as long as she could. 

All to soon they were in some office room on the second floor with big windows looking out over the gardens behind the manor. She took in the room. The bookcases along one wall and the fireplace on the opposite. The desk pushed into one corner, and the couches and chairs that formed a semi-circle around the fireplace. The rich green rug, and the mirror that showed back a reverse version of the room. She wanted to remember this moment. Wanted to remember this place. Even if the memory would hurt, the pain was better than no memory at all. 

Tessa looked into the mirror and felt like she was inside it, surrounded by a room where everything was backwards and wrong, but only she could see it and understand it because unless you held the mirror world up to the original it’d be impossible to pinpoint what was wrong. 

Swallowing hard she turned around to face Damian. He was watching her, a frown on his face. She didn’t bother to smile. He’d see through it anyway. 

She opened her mouth, hoping the words would just fall out, but nothing came. She tried again, but as soon as she thought the first word it got caught in her throat, choking her. Closing her mouth she crossed the room and sat down on one of the couches. Sitting was good. Sitting was grounded. 

Slowly Damian followed her, sitting beside her. For a moment, they just sat there in silence. She tried to work up the courage to say the words, to just tell him what she had to, but the words were strangling her. She could barely breathe around them. 

“Tess,” Damian said, looking at her. She couldn’t meet his gaze. “On the phone, when you asked if it would be a bad thing if we were dating, I didn’t mean… I don’t want you to think… I–” He cursed, shoving a hand through his hair. “What I’m trying to say is that when I didn’t answer it wasn’t that I thought… that I thought it was a _bad_ thing, it was just that I… I didn’t know how to answer so I didn’t and then you started talking and telling me to forget about it but I don’t want to forget about it.” 

She could feel his eyes burning into her as acutely as she could feel the words that would soon fall out of his mouth. He was going to confess his feelings. He was actually going to do it. The one thing she’d wanted for so long, the deepest wish she kept locked in her heart, was about to happen, and she was going to have to say no. 

Her heart twisted so painfully she thought it might break. 

Those words would damn her. If he said them, if she let him say them, she would break. She would break so utterly and completely that she wouldn’t even know where to begin to put herself back together. 

She couldn’t let him say them, no matter how much she wanted to hear those words just once. No matter how much she wanted to say them back. 

“Damian, I need you to listen to me, okay?” she said, hating the thickness of her words, the way they stuck to her tongue. 

Damian frowned, eyes boring into her. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” she said. Buying time. Giving herself a few more precious seconds in this room when everything was still right. “These past few months… they’ve been amazing. Even when you were being an ass. Sometimes because you were being an ass, mostly because I got to yell at you which is always fun especially when you go all rant-y and pretentio–” 

She cut herself off. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “You’ve become a really good friend, and you were the first person who ever bothered to notice that something was wrong. I can’t thank you enough for that.” She met his eyes, green burning into gray. “Thank you for everything.” 

“What’s going on, Tess?” Damian asked, eyes scanning her face. “What’s wrong?” 

“Everything,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Everything’s wrong. This entire situation is making me realize what I’ve been denying for months, and now that it’s staring me in the face I can’t just… just let it _go_. So as much as I don’t want to lose you–” 

“Never,” Damian said, his hand finding her own. “You could never lose me.” 

She looked at their hands, a tear sliding down her cheek. He’d said almost the same words two weeks ago. She’d believed them so whole-heartedly then. Wished that she still did. Wished she could believe them as much as Damian did. And he did believe them. She could feel the sureness of his conviction radiating from him. 

Taking a shaking breath, she gently pulled her hand out of his. “As much as I don’t want to lose you,” she started again, voice trembling, “I have to.” 

Slowly she looked up at Damian, only to find him looking at her with furrowed brows, his jaw opening and closing. Her stomach twisted. His face was so… she didn’t even know. It was so many things at once that she couldn’t pick out a single emotion. 

After a long moment, he said, “I don’t understand.” 

She nearly laughed. It was so impossibly sad, so impossibly Damian, that he wouldn’t understand the reason for those words that it was nearly funny. Instead, it just hurt. 

“My entire life,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “I’ve worked to stay invisible. I worked to make sure that no one paid attention to me more than a passing glance because if they looked, they’d find out what my dad was doing to me and it’d only end badly for me. So I became someone no one would care about or look at twice so my dad wouldn’t look at me twice either. 

“I became someone he wouldn’t care about unless I was in his direct line of sight, so when he came home drunk, or angry, or whatever else, he wouldn’t think about me and taking out his frustration there. I became someone he wouldn’t care about so when I turned eighteen…” She took a shaking breath. “So when I turned eighteen I could leave and he wouldn’t care about me enough to look for me.” 

Damian’s head shot up, his eyes searching her face. 

She pushed on, “I became invisible for a reason, and now everyone in Gotham knows my name. They know who I am, and who my dad is, and where I live, and countless other things, and they’re just going to keep digging. They’re going to find out what my dad did.” 

“So?” Damian asked, voice hard. 

“So, what?” 

“So, what if they find out?” Damian growled. “Everyone should know what a piece of shit your father is.” 

“That’s not the point,” she said, frowning. Didn’t he understand that? This wasn’t about her dad. 

“Then what is the point?” Damian asked, the patient, searching look disappearing. “Because right now the only point I see in you trying to cut me out of your life is that you get to protect your dad.” 

“Protect him?” she spat. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes. How could he think that? 

“Yeah, protect him,” Damian growled. “You say you want to stop being friends because you want to be invisible, but the only thing being invisible does is protect your dad.” 

“You’re not listening!” she shouted, tears streaming down her face. How the hell did he get to that conclusion? 

“I am listening!” Damian shouted. “You’re the one who’s saying you want to protect your asshole father!” 

“I don’t want to protect him!” she shouted, standing up. She had to move. Had to get away from him, if only by a little. “The last thing I want is to protect him. I couldn’t care less what happened him. I’d be happy to see him put in jail for life. Hell, those are some of my best dreams.” 

“Then why won’t you go to the police?” Damian asked, standing up and stepping towards her. “Put him where he belongs, Tess.” 

“I can’t,” she said, shoving her hand through her hair and turning away from him 

“Why not?” Damian growled, taking a step closer. 

He didn’t _get_ it. 

“Why not?” Damian asked, softer this time. 

“Because I can’t,” she said, voice hard, spinning around to look at him. 

He looked back, unflinching. “That’s not a reason.” 

She didn’t look away as she said, “That’s the only reason you’re going to get.” 

Damian laughed, cold and harsh. He took a step away – a single, solitary step away from her – and she heard her heart crack. 

“So that’s it?” Damian asked, his face twisting. “We’re done because you can’t for some mysterious reason tell someone what your dad has done to you?” 

She looked at the ground, eyes burning. She hated those words. She didn’t owe him a reason. She knew her reason, and it was good enough. If he couldn’t just accept that she wouldn’t be doing this unless it was a damn good reason, then that was his problem. 

“Yes,” she croaked out, her anger disappearing from her bones. 

Damian huffed, shoving a hand through his hair. 

This was it. This was where it ended. She could feel it coming, the edge of the cliff, and she was running full speed towards it ready to dive in head first, ready to splatter her body on the rocks below and then try to piece herself back together from there. She was about to take that jump, and it would break her. 

She braced herself for the fall. For the words that would come out of Damian’s mouth causing her to jump. Prepared herself for the pain that would crack her heart wide open and leave it bare for the whole world to see. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, every muscle in her body tensing as she waited for the words that would break her. 

“I don’t accept that.” 

Her heart stopped. Just clean out stopped as his words washed over her. The words that should break her. The words that said he was giving up, that he was walking away, that he was letting her go. The words that would be their end. 

The words that were anything but that. 

Slowly she opened her eyes, looking into his face. “What?” 

She couldn’t have heard him right. It had to be a mistake. She had to be wrong. He couldn’t have said what she thought he had. 

“I. Don’t. Accept. That,” Damian repeated, taking a step closer to her. Those same words. Those words that couldn’t be real but somehow were. “I refuse to let you walk away from me.” 

“You refuse?” she whispered, looking up at him. 

“Damn right I refuse,” Damian said, looking down at her softly. 

It knocked the breath out of her. She’d seen him look soft before, but having him look at her this softly, with his full attention focused on her… she nearly crumbled under the weight of it. 

“You’ve become a part of my life, Tess,” Damian said, taking another half step closer so there was barely any space between them. “I’m not going to let you walk out of it unless you give me a damn good reason.” 

Something between a sob and a laugh caught in her throat. 

He wasn’t letting her walk away. He wasn’t giving up on her. She could barely wrap her head around it. Damian Wayne wasn’t just going to let her walk away like everyone else had. 

“What’s the reason, Tess?” Damian asked softly. “Why do people finding out what your dad does to you scare you so much?” 

She swallowed hard. This… she didn’t know what to do. She still couldn’t– she couldn’t be friends with Damian. Couldn’t go on with this. Him not letting her leave didn’t change anything. She still had to leave. There wasn’t some fix to this. 

“If I tell you, will you let me walk away?” she whispered, hating the words. 

Damian looked at her unblinkingly. “Not a chance.” 

She laughed, the sound hollow. “Then why should I tell you? If it’s not going to change anything, what’s the point? Why shouldn’t I just walk out of here now?” 

Damian’s eyes flashed, some hidden emotion flickering in them that was there one second and gone the next. “Because if you tell me, I can tell you how stupid your reason is.” 

“It’s not stupid.” 

“Prove it.” 

“I don’t need to prove anything to you.” 

“Of course not, but that doesn’t make your reason any less stupid.” 

Her hands balled into fists. “You want to know my reason?” she asked. “Fine. Let’s say I do tell the cops what my dad’s done. Option one is that they cover it up, get paid off, and the entire thing is buried so deep that there’s not even a whisper of it anywhere, but my dad knows I tried to ruin his life.” 

“That’s–” 

“Option two,” she cut in, voice hard, “is that, by some miracle, it does make it past the police and into the court system. They get there, and then those officials are bribed to claim that he’s innocent. You’d think no harm, no foul, but in politics even an on-record allegation like that could ruin someone’s career. In short, I’d be ruining his life, even if he doesn’t go to jail.” 

“What’s so–” 

“ _Option three_ ,” she hissed, glaring at him, “is that he actually goes to jail for what he did. He gets twenty years if I’m lucky, ten if I’m not. Knowing him he’d probably manage to get out early for good behavior. It doesn’t matter though, because by sending him to jail I’ve effectively ruined his life. 

“What’s the common factor there, Damian? What’s the one thing about those three options that stay the same?” she asked. 

“That you ruin his life,” Damian ground out. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s a plus.” 

“Well, let me tell you, it’s not,” Tessa said, voice thick. She could feel the tears building behind her eyes. “If I ruin his life, I lose mine, and that’s not something I’m willing to give up.” 

Damian frowned. “I don’t follow.” 

Tessa huffed. “If I ruin his life, then for the rest of mine he will follow me and find me and make sure to ruin mine,” she said, voice shaking. “I will never be able to escape him because he will always be there a step behind me making sure that I never know a moment of peace.” 

“But if he goes to jail–” 

“It will be a temporary fix,” she said. “He’ll be there for a certain amount of time, and then when he gets out he’ll find me and never leave me alone.” 

“I won’t let him,” Damian said. 

A ghost of a smile spread across her lips. “That’s sweet, but you don’t have that kind of power.” 

Damian growled low in his throat, then shoved a hand through his hair and started to pace. “What if–” 

“There’s no what if’s, Damian. There aren’t any options except me waiting out these next two years so I can have the rest of my life.” 

That’s it. That’s what it came down to. If she could wait two more years, then she could do whatever she wanted afterwards. She could be free. She could survive two years, could sacrifice this happiness right now so she could know what it feels like to not be afraid all the time. It was worth this. Worth losing him. No matter how much her heart was breaking listening to him try to find a solution that she knew didn’t exist. 

“What if no one found out?” 

She snorted. “That’s not going to happen. There’s no way. If the media looks into me they will find my hospital records and the absences and all the other stuff and put together that my dad abuses me.” 

“But what if they didn’t?” Damian asked, eyes steady. “What if I made sure they didn’t?” 

She froze. He couldn’t mean… “You’re not going to commit a felony for me. I won’t let you.” 

“I won’t,” Damian said, stepping closer to her again. “I’ll just hide the information in a place that they can’t get to. It won’t be obscuring evidence because it will still be accessible, just not easily.” 

“Damian–” 

“No, if this is what it takes, I’ll do it,” Damian said, their eyes locking. “If this is the way that I get to keep you in my life, then I’ll do it.” 

She stared at him, searching his face for the lie, but didn’t find it. He was serious. He’d do this for her. He’d help her hide this information so that they could still be friends. 

She felt her heart expand in her chest, the feeling swelling so far inside her that she felt like she’d explode from all the emotions that she was feeling. 

“If you could–” 

“I can,” Damian said, stepping so close that she felt his breath on her face. “Say the word and I’ll do it.” 

“Even if it means he’ll go unpunished?” she asked. 

His jaw tightened. “If it means you’re safe, and you’re happy, and you’re free, then I can handle him being unpunished.” 

Her heart beat steadily in her chest, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. She could barely believe this. It felt like a dream. But it was real, and she was here, and there was a solution in front of her where she got to have everything. 

“Okay,” she whispered, the word barely loud enough to be heard. 

“Okay?” he breathed. “You’ll let me do it? You’ll stay?” 

She nodded, leaning her head against his chest. “Only if you promise you won’t leave either.” 

“Never,” Damian said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. 

For a moment she stayed there and breathed him in. She couldn’t believe it. Somehow, someway, she got to keep him without losing her future. She got both. And it’d be hard, and her dad would freak out and be harder on her, but as long as the media didn’t find out, as long as no one breathed a word about the abuse, then he wouldn’t care if she left. He’d promised. And as little as his word meant, she knew he’d meant that one. 

A laugh bubbled up in her chest. She got to be friends with Damian. She got to keep him. She didn’t have to lose him. 

Smiling she pulled away, looking into his face. He looked back, a half-smile on his own, and asked, “What?” 

Tessa looked at him, lost for a moment, and then did the one thing she never thought she’d do. 

She fisted her hand into the front of his shirt and kissed him. 

Because why not? If she could be his friend, if they could do that without any consequences, what difference would it make if they were something more? Why couldn’t she have him this way? 

For a single moment, she stood there with her lips pressed to his and her heart beating wildly in her chest, waiting for any sort of reaction. 

Then Damian tightened his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, kissing her soft and sweet. 

They broke away a moment later, foreheads pressed together and just breathing in the moment, and for the first time in her life, Tessa wasn’t afraid of someone’s response because she knew how he’d react. 

Smiling, she said, “I like you.” 

She could hear the smile in his words as he said, “I like you too, Tess.” 

Her smile felt like it’d break her face. 

After a moment she asked, “Now what do we do?” 

“Now,” Damian said, pulling away just enough so that their eyes locked, “I go make sure that no one will find out what your dad does to you, and then,” A smile spread over his face. “Then I’m going to take you on the best first date in history.” 

She laughed, gently hitting his chest. “I’ll hold you to that.” 

He pressed his forehead back against hers, and in that moment, everything felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey people. So, this chapter was heavy, I know. It was really hard for me to write, and I had to stop multiple times just because I was a mess and my brain was refusing to let me write this chapter, which is why it's a bit shorter than the other ones have been. But it's done now, and it ended happy, and even though there's still going to be a lot of shit going on in the next couple chapters there will be happy parts too.
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments, or if you want to you can talk to be on [Tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/). :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian's got a plan and he needs his family's help to complete it

Damian walked downstairs, the ghost of their kiss hovering on his lips. This small, insistent smile kept teasing the corner of his lips. It was ridiculous. He had to focus. He’d left Tessa upstairs in that room for a reason, and now he had to do what he had to. 

He walked into the living room and found his entire family, extended members included, hovering at computers and talking on the phone and typing furiously on keyboards. The only person who wasn’t in the room was Father. Damian could hear his harsh voice echoing from down the hall as he yelled at someone on the other end of his phone. 

Good. He didn’t need Father interfering with this. 

“Alright, listen up,” Damian said, stepping into the room. 

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing, turning their eyes towards him. 

“New assignment,” he said. “I need everyone in the cave.” 

“What?” Tim asked, hands hovering over his keyboard. “I thought we were trying to fix the press problem?” 

“This is more important,” Damian said. 

He watched as they looked at each other, silent conversations passing between them. He tried not to tap his foot. As much as he understood why they’d do this, there was a time limit on this. If they didn’t move fast enough, someone could figure out what an abusive piece of shit Tessa’s father was. 

“Alright,” Dick said, standing up. “I’ll get B.” 

“No,” Damian said. “He won’t approve of this.” 

He’d most likely stop it and find a different way, and as much as Damian hated what he was going to ask his family to help him do, this was the best option with the time they had. They could come up with a better solution later. 

Everyone frowned, half opening their mouths to ask what he was talking about, but Jason cut them all off. 

“It’s her dad, isn’t it?” he asked. 

Dick, Tim, and Cass’s face turned to stone. 

“What am I missing?” Barbara asked, eyebrows scrunched together. She looked at Steph, who shrugged and looked between the rest of them. 

“Tell them in the cave,” Damian said, looking at Dick. “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

Not waiting for a response, he left the room, heading towards the kitchen. 

He found Alfred in there, his back facing him as he scooped what looked like his famous chocolate chip cookie dough onto baking sheet. 

“I need a favor.” 

Alfred turned, eyebrow raised. “What is it, Master Damian?” 

“I need you to run interference with Father,” he said. Alfred only raised his eyebrow higher. “There’s something I need to do in the cave that I need everyone’s help with, and I can’t have him coming down and stopping us.” 

Damian stood still, letting Alfred look him over. He tried to look as innocent as possible but found himself scowling instead. Maybe he should have sent Dick to do this instead. Or Jason. Alfred always had a soft spot for him. 

“Consider it handled,” Alfred said, turning back to the cookies. 

Damian blinked. “That’s it?” 

He knew he hadn’t been fooling anyone. Alfred definitely knew that whatever he was about to do wasn’t technically right, even if he was doing it for the right reasons. There should have been a fight. Or at least a stern warning. _Something_. Not Alfred agreeing to let him do what he had to and making sure Father wouldn’t interfere. Hell, he’d had an entire argument ready for when Alfred said no or asked questions. 

“That is it, Master Damian,” Alfred said, scooping cookie dough onto the sheets. “Though I would suggest that whatever you are about to do on Miss Tessa’s behalf, you tell your father about at some point. I believe he would be somewhat understanding.” 

Damian snorted. “It’s Father.” 

“Yes, it is,” Alfred said. “This is the man who took in five children from horrible families. I’m sure he’d help you in your endeavor to stop Tessa’s father from hurting her again.” 

Damian froze. “You know?” 

“Of course I know,” Alfred said, looking over his shoulder with a smile. “Do you really think you children can do anything in this house that I am not aware of?” 

A half-smile slipped across his lips. He should have known. Bruce may call himself the greatest detective in the world, but he was fairly certain that Alfred was the one who held that title. There was nothing that got past him. “I guess not.” 

“You guessed right,” Alfred said, moving to the sink to wash his hands. “Now go do what you must, but think about telling Master Bruce once you have finished.” 

“I will,” Damian said, turning to leave. He paused at the door. “Thank you, Alfred.” 

\----------------------------------- 

The second he entered the cave Jason growled, “What’d he do?” 

He glanced at Steph and Babs. “Did you fill them in?” 

“Oh yeah,” Steph ground out, hands balled into fists. 

“With all the media attention focused on and will continue to focus on Tessa, someone is bound to dig deep enough into her past and put together the pieces that her dad abuses her–” 

“Good,” Jason snarled. “The asshole deserves to go to jail.” 

“I agree,” Damian said, lips curling. The bastard deserved a lot of things, and one day he’d make sure he got everything he deserved. “Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple,” Damian continued, unable to keep the snarl from his voice. “When the media gets wind of Tessa being abused by her father and effectively ruin his political career, he’ll blame her for it. He’ll try to ruin her life like she ruined his. Tessa will have to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life if the media finds out about this.” 

“But he’ll be in jail,” Steph argued. “He can’t hurt her from in there.” 

“But he’ll get out,” Tim said, looking at Damian. “Eventually, he’ll get out, and when he does he’ll find Tessa and ruin her life.” 

Tim didn’t need confirmation, but he nodded anyway. “We also can’t be sure that if this does come out that anything will be done about it. We know how corrupt Gotham is. There’s a strong chance that it’ll be brushed to the side completely and thought of as nothing more than a rumor, or he’ll be run out of office but not be put in jail.” 

“So, what’s the plan?” Dick asked, leaning forward. “I’m assuming you have one.” 

“We wipe anything that could lead anyone to the conclusion that Tessa’s father is abusive from the internet–” 

“What? No way–” 

“We’re going to _cover up_ for the asshole–” “ _Fuck_ that–” 

“We can’t just let him get away with this–” 

“And then,” Damian shouted, shutting them all up, “we’re going to use the information to blackmail him into never hurting her again.” 

As soon as he’d told Tessa that he’d hide the information, he’d decided that with or without his siblings’ help, he was going to use that information to blackmail Walter Morgan. 

When he was sure that none of his siblings were going to interrupt, he said, “We take all the information off of the internet and put it on to an encrypted file on a flash drive that we keep, then use it to blackmail him into never laying a hand on Tessa again.” 

“You don’t think our threat was enough?” Tim asked, fingers drumming against the arm of his chair. 

“I think that this is much more concrete than a threat,” Damian said. “As scared as he was that night, he might get it into his thick head that we would never find out if he hurt Tessa. This way, if we tell him as the Waynes instead of the Bats, he’ll know that his actions will be monitored because Tessa will be the one monitoring him. 

“It’ll also allow Tessa to know that she’s safe and in control of the situation. She couldn’t know about us threatening her father in our vigilante forms, but this way she will. She’ll know that he can’t touch her without his secret getting out.” 

It was a solid plan. He knew that. Now he just needed them to agree so they could accomplish this. 

“Alright,” Barbara said. “I’m game.” 

“Me too,” Jason said. “Even if I’d still rather shoot the asshole.” 

Dick smacked Jason. “I’m in.” 

“Same,” Tim and Steph said at the same time. 

They all looked at Cass. She looked straight at Damian and asked, “Does Tessa approve?” 

“I haven’t told her yet,” Damian said. “I wanted to make sure you would help first.” 

“If she approves, I will help,” Cass said. 

“I have one improvement,” Tim said, raising his hand. Damian looked at it. Tim lowered it, rubbed the back of his neck, and said, “We should have him sign a written agreement saying that he won’t hurt Tessa in exchange for us keeping this information under wraps, as well as an admittance to all the harm that he has caused Tessa over the years. That way, if he does break it, there’ll be written proof that no one can ignore. We’ll have our confession before he’s even arrested, making it so that if he is, they won’t be able to let him go.” 

“I second that,” Dick said. 

Damian nodded. It was smart. A contract meant that if he did break his word, they’d have more proof in court. 

“I’ll talk to Tessa,” he said. “For now, start finding any information that could tie to her abuse. Absences, photos, hospital records – anything like that. I’ll see if I can have her come up with a list, but I’m not making any promises. If she doesn’t want to make one, I’m not forcing her.” 

“Agreed,” Steph said. “If you need help talking to her, text us.” 

Damian nodded. 

“Hey,” Dick said. “Are we keeping this from B again?” 

Damian pursed his lips. His instinct was to say yes. Father wouldn’t approve of this. Blackmailing might be something that they do regularly, but this was different. This was blackmailing that, while it would stop abuse, would also be protecting the criminal. Father would want to send him to jail, no questions asked. 

But… but maybe this time, he’d understand. Maybe Alfred was right and they should tell Father. 

“Find all the information you can, and then we’ll discuss telling Father,” Damian said. He needed to think about it more. “Alfred’s running interference upstairs, but at least two of you should go back up and help, both with running interference and to deal with the PR.” 

Damian turned to walk out of the room, but Dick’s voice chased after him. “Anything change on the PR front?” 

Damian stopped. Slowly, he turned back around to face his siblings. They were smiling at him. 

Jaw clenched, he ground out, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Dick said, the infuriating smile only growing, “Are you going to tell us that you kissed Tessa, or is that supposed to be a secret still?” 

He felt his cheeks burn. “I didn’t kiss her.” 

Dick’s smile was replaced with a frown. 

It was true. Technically. He hadn’t been the one to kiss her. She’d kissed him. His stomach flipped at the thought. After everything, after all the times he’d wondered and hoped that she liked him back, she’d been the one to kiss him. He’d nearly laughed right into the kiss because of it. 

Jason’s laugh cut through the room. “She kissed you, didn’t she?” 

Damian glared. 

“She did!” Jason screamed, pumping the air. “Pay up, losers.” 

Half the room groaned, pulling out their wallets. 

“You bet on us?” Damian asked. 

“Oh yeah,” Steph said, leaning back in her seat with a self-satisfied smirk. “Bruce owes Jason, Cass, and I a loooooot of money.” 

Damian glared at the accusing people. “You bet _against_ me?” 

“It is nothing against you, little brother,” Cass said, taking the money out of Dick’s hand. 

“Yeah, we just knew that Tessa was too big of a badass to let you make the first move,” Jason said, counting out the stack of money he was holding. 

He shoved a hand through his hair. “You know what, I don’t care. I’m going to go talk to Tessa about the important things we’re supposed to be focusing on.” 

“Wait, I was serious, what do you want to tell the PR team now?” Dick asked. “Do you want us to keep insisting that you’re not a couple and the photos were taken out of context, or should we stop and let everyone know?” 

Damian frowned. He knew his answer. If it was his choice, he wouldn’t hide it, but it wasn’t just his choice. 

“I’ll talk to Tessa,” he said, walking away. 

“Okay!” Dick called. “Don’t get too distracted with kissing!” 

He flipped them off over his shoulder, face burning. 

Why did they insist on being like this? He was trying to focus on helping Tessa. He didn’t need to be distracted by… distracted. He didn’t need to be distracted. Period. 

Taking a deep breath he pushed the door open and found Tessa exactly where he’d left her, scrolling through something on her phone. She had a frown on her face. Gently Damian closed the door and asked, “What are you looking at?” 

Her head shot up, her entire body tensing. Damian tried not to wince. He should have been louder coming in. 

She relaxed back into the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. “Just… all the stuff that’s online. Now that we are… you know, are we still going to try and stop this?” 

Damian sat on the couch next to her, taking her hand if only because he could. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“Okay,” she said, tightening her fingers around his. He marveled at how natural her hand felt in his. 

“So, there’s two option,” Damian said, turning to face her more. “Option one is we keep denying the claim that we’re dating and insist that we’re nothing more than friends. A lot of the press won’t believe it and keep pushing the story, meaning that whenever we’re out in public together we’re going to have to hide whatever this is. They’ll eventually move onto a new story, but we’re looking at a bare minimum of three weeks of paparazzi following us, but it’ll give us some time to figure us out without having the world watch our every move.” 

He watched as Tessa got tenser and tenser the longer he spoke. Gently he squeezed her hand. 

He couldn’t even imagine what she was thinking. She’d always liked to hide, but hiding to this extent? It was awful. Throwing the paparazzi of his trail was harder than it should be, especially when he had to do it as Damian Wayne and not Robin. As good as Tessa was at going unnoticed, this would be a whole different ballgame. 

He watched her force a smile onto her face before she asked, “And the other option?” 

“We tell everyone we’re dating,” Damian said, watching Tessa freeze. His heart stuttered in his chest. “The media will blow up and every tabloid everywhere will want to talk to us, they’ll follow us wherever we go, and for the couple weeks we’ll have to deal with all their shit, but they’ll eventually move on to another story until something interesting happens involving us, which would then revive the paparazzi for a week until they forget about us again.” 

Tessa swallowed hard. “So, the first option is we have to hide everywhere we go and deal with the paparazzi, and the second option is putting everything out there and having everyone critic everything we do.” 

Damian stifled a snort. Of course she would simplify it like that. “Pretty much.” 

“The second one’s going to happen eventually, right?” 

He nodded. “Whenever we choose to tell them, we’ll have to deal with that, yes.” 

Tessa nodded slowly, looking at their hands. Damian watched her, trying to read what she was thinking behind those gray eyes, but couldn’t puzzle out the thoughts flickering behind them. 

“What do you want to do?” Tessa finally asked, looking up at him. 

“It’s doesn’t matter,” Damian said, squeezing her hand. “This is your choice. I’m the one dragging you into this kind of life where everyone looks at you and judges what you do, so it’s your choice when you want to fully join it. I want you to do it when you feel ready, and if you don’t right now, then we’ll go with option one and deal with option two when you are.” 

Tessa bit her lip, dropping her eyes back to their hands, her hair falling into her face. His hand twitched to push it back, but – no, he could do that now. 

Smiling slightly he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, then gently tipped her chin up so their eyes met. “It’s your choice, Tess. I’ll support whatever you choose, no questions asked.” 

She smiled back at him, reaching out and laying her hand on his cheek. His breath caught in his chest. 

“I… I don’t want to hide,” Tessa said, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. “I’ve done enough of that, and… I don’t want to hide. I want to tell everyone.” 

His heart contracted in his chest. Without thinking he leaned close, kissing her for a single heartbeat before pulling away. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” she said, a beautiful, brilliant smile on her face. 

He let his eyes fall shut and just… _breathed_. He still couldn’t quite believe that they were doing this, even if they hadn’t defined what this was. They didn’t have to. Not yet. He was happy just _being_. It was enough. _She_ was enough. 

“What was the other thing?” Tessa asked softly. 

His heart clenched in his chest. He didn’t want to break this moment. He wanted to stay in it and exist, but they had to talk. It’d been his choice to even make this option, and even if she’d resist against it he knew that this was the right call. 

Pulling away, he looked her dead in the eye and said, “I need you to hear me out on this.” 

Tessa frowned but nodded. 

“I know I said I’d hide the information about what your dad has done to you so that no one could find it, but,” he said, and Tessa tensed, “I think that a better use for it would be to blackmail your father with it.” 

Tessa’s eyes widened so much he thought they might pop out. Then they narrowed, her entire face turning hard as she glared at him. He nearly flinched. 

“No. No way, Damian. We’re not doing that.” 

“Why not?” he said, trying to ignore the way the glare hurt. “If we use the information to blackmail him, then not only will we be hiding it from the press, but we can use it against him to make sure he won’t hurt you. It’ll be insurance so that if he does, we have something we can use against him and he’ll know it.” 

“No,” Tessa said, shaking her head. “He’ll… he’ll…” 

“He’ll what?” Damian asked. “Tess, the point is that if we do this, he can’t do anything.” 

“Were you not listening to me before?” Tessa asked, standing up and shoving a hand through her hair. “If we do this, he’ll hate me. He’ll never let me leave. He’ll be so angry that I’m forcing him into a corner that he’ll eventually snap and do something and then everything will blow up in our faces.” 

“It won’t,” Damian said, standing up and putting his hands on her shoulders. “If we make a contract stating if he hurts you in any way, shape, or form, and that when you turn eighteen he can never contact you again unless he wants his information released like Tim suggested, then–” 

“Tim?” 

Damian froze. Shit. Shit. “ _Tim_?” Tessa repeated, pushing his hands off her shoulders. 

“I– it’s not– he–” 

“You promised you wouldn’t tell anyway,” Tessa said, taking a step away from him and wrapping her arms around herself. He swallowed hard. “You promised, Damian.” 

“Tess, it’s not what–” 

“I swear to god, Damian, if you’re going to say ‘it’s now what you think’ I will walk out of this room,” she said, glaring. “That’s not a fucking excuse. Actually, there’s no fucking excuse. You promised.” 

“I know,” he said, shoving a hand through his hair. He took a step towards her. “Tess, I–” 

He cut himself off when she took a step away from him. 

He closed his eyes, shoving away the pain that small movement brought, even if he deserved it – more than deserved it. He’d promised her. He’d said to her that he would not tell anyone, and even if he’d told them for a good reason, he’d still broken his word, and he could see the hurt that brought Tessa written all over her face. 

“Who else knows?” 

He forced himself to meet her burning gaze. He tried not to flinch. 

“Who else knows, Damian,” Tessa demanded. 

He swallowed hard. “Everyone but Father.” 

Tessa laughed, hard and cold. This time, he flinched. 

“How long?” 

Slowly he said, “Steph and Babs found out today.” 

“And the others?” 

Damian held her gaze as he said, “The first day.” 

Tessa stared at him, her face shuttering closed until nothing but a cold, empty expression was left. He felt all the air leave his body. He could barely breathe because of that look. 

“Tess–” 

“Don’t talk to me,” she said and walked out of the room. 

And even though he wanted to chase after her, to explain exactly what had happened, he let the door close with a soft click instead. 

He wished she’d slammed it. If she’d slammed it, he would have been able to handle it. Anger was something he understood, something that made sense, something that he could work through, but this? That soft click sounded more final than any slammed door ever had. 

Damian shoved his hands into his hair and sat down on the couch. How the hell had he fucked up this bad so fast? They’d just figured out that they liked each other a few hours ago and he’d already screwed up. She didn’t want to _talk_ to him. Hell, he didn’t even want to talk to himself. 

He’d promised. He’d promised her that he wouldn’t tell anyone, and even though he would still tell them about it, even though he wouldn’t take it back because telling the others meant keeping Tessa safe, he could still feel the gaping hole in his chest. He’d hurt her. By trying to keep her safe, he’d hurt her. 

And he couldn’t tell her why he’d told them. He couldn’t tell her that he’d went to threaten her father and brought the others along to make sure that he actually listened. He couldn’t tell her that he’d told Steph and Babs because Babs was the best hacker they had and Steph could do anything she put her mind to. He couldn’t tell her that because she didn’t know he was Robin, and explaining why he’d need to tell the others that first night would involve that secret. 

As much as he wanted to tell her, he couldn’t. Not yet. It’d put her at too much of a risk. 

Damian cursed, long and low. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn’t tell her the truth, and lying would only make everything worse, so where did that leave him? 

He’d have to lie. He’d have to come up with a lie that was close enough to the truth that all the facts would still be there except for Robin. 

Was this what life was going to be like now? If they were… if they were still dating after this or whatever it was they were doing, would he have to keep lying to her about Robin? Would he have to keep crafting half-truths to keep her from the truth? 

He’d done it before. When they were still friends, when he’d spent long nights and shown up with a bruise that he couldn’t hide he’d lie. But they were more now. How the hell would they work if he had to constantly lie to her about leaving if something came up, or why he couldn’t do things at night, or why his entire family disappeared? 

Damian sighed. He couldn’t think about this now. He had to figure out what he could say to Tessa. 

Cursing under his breath Damian stood up. He might as well go see what progress his family’s made while he figures out how to fix this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!
> 
> Soooooo, I missed Wednesday's update. I'm sorry. I suck. A couple of you asked in the comments to see what was up, but here's the explanation for anyone who wants to know: I had this paper due that I procrastinated (shocker), and then since I write for my schools paper I had this giant, important article I had to write about this debate for one of the governing seats in the state of Oregon, so I got super busy and had a bunch of other things to write and I really wanted to post this chapter but it wasn't done and I'd rather post a chapter I'm proud of late than a chapter I'm not proud of on time.
> 
> So yeah. There's my explanation. I luckily don't have anything going on this weekend so I'm planning on working solely on this story to try and pop out some chapters so I can actually get on top of this story again, so cross your fingers for me and wish me some luck.
> 
> As always, your comments make my day so talk to me down there. You can also talk to me on my [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/). I post mini excerpts from future chapters and other random stuff, so if you feel like it follow me there :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the batfam talk to Tessa

Tessa didn’t know where she was going. All she knew was that she couldn’t stand in that room anymore, couldn’t look at him, couldn’t deal. She had to get away. If she had stood there for a second longer, his words ringing around in her head, the words of a broken promise, she would have snapped. 

She swiped at the tears running down her face. God, she was so sick of crying. Of hurting. 

She’d never thought Damian would be the one to hurt her. She’d thought she’d finally found someone that she could trust. Guess she was wrong. 

The laugh that came out of her throat sounded more like a sob. 

Wiping at her eyes again she ducked into the nearest room to her, finding herself in a half-made bedroom that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. It worked. She didn’t care where she was as long as she was by herself. 

Stifling another sob she sat down on the floor, her back pressed into the wall next to the door. 

Why did it hurt so much? She’d dealt with broken promises her entire life. Hell, it was practically the one thing she could always count on. She’d been lied to so many times by now that she shouldn’t be surprised. It shouldn’t _hurt_. 

But it did. The aching, shredded hole inside her chest hurt worse than it ever had before. 

She snorted, shoving her hands into her hair. She shouldn’t be surprised. She _shouldn’t_ be. But she was. Because it was _Damian_. It was Damian who had broken his promise. 

He hadn’t even been able to keep it for a day. A _day_. He’d said he’d told his siblings the very first day. A broken, hollow laugh echoed through the room. She’d thought she could trust him not to tell anyone. She’d been wrong. Damian was just like everyone else. 

God, she’d _kissed him_. She’d let herself fall for him and trust him and bring him into her life, and the second he’d learned the secret she’d been keeping her entire life he’d went and told his entire family about it. 

How had she gotten him so wrong? 

When did the boy who stubbornly forced her into letting him drive her home, the boy who carried her stuff around for months, the boy who brought her breakfast, the boy that helped her with homework, the boy who cared enough to come to her house when she hadn’t been at school – when did that boy turn into a liar? 

Maybe he’d always been a liar. Maybe he’d been so good at it he’d been lying to her about who he really was the entire time. 

She buried her head in her knees. What the hell was she going to do? They’d just become… whatever it was they’d just become, and it had already fallen apart. She’d just decided that she was okay with telling everyone because it was Damian and she knew that he’d always be there for her no matter what. 

But could she say that now? Could she truly trust him to be there for her knowing that he’d broken his promise? How could she trust him not to break this one? How could she trust him not to leave? 

God, this was a mess. He’d made it a mess. He’d been lying to her for weeks. Weeks. He’d been lying to her, had broken his promise, and she’d still trusted him. She’d trusted him so much that she was willing to put herself out there in front of the world because he’d be right there by her side. 

He’d ruined that trust. Had broken it. And a part of her broke with it. 

She’d just started to feel okay again. She’d started being happy. She hadn’t felt happy in so long, hadn’t felt like she’d belonged anywhere, and then Damian had invited her here and she’d felt like her fit in here and yesterday was amazing and he’d given her that necklace so she wouldn’t– 

The necklace. She picked it up, holding it by the string so that his stone wouldn’t change. Her face twisted. Tessa unclipped it and threw it across the room. 

Tears blurred her vision. What gave him the right to make her feel wanted and accepted and then go and tell everyone her secrets? Who the hell did that? _Why_ did he do that? It didn’t… didn’t… it didn’t make any _sense_. What kind of stupid, convoluted, sick game did he think this was? 

He didn’t get to do both. It wasn’t right. And they sure as hell didn’t cancel out. That’s not how life worked. Doing good things didn’t make the bad things better. The bad things made the good things obsolete. The bad thins made all the good things worthless. 

He’d broken his promise. And no matter what else he’d done, all the things he’d made her feel, the stupid kiss that had felt so beautiful and right, none of it mattered. He’d still broken his promise. That single act ruined everything else, and she hated it. 

She hated that this single thing was breaking them. She hated that the stupid part of his brain that had thought it’d be okay to tell his siblings. She hated him. She hated him for making her feel this way. She hated him for making her hate him, because she didn’t hate him, and now everything just hurt. 

She didn’t want to hurt. She wanted– 

The door creaked open. Tessa turned, ready to scream at Damian, but found Cass staring back at her instead. 

The anger flickered out like a candle. She didn’t even have the energy to tell Cass to go away. She just dropped her head back to her knees, expecting Cass to walk away. 

Instead, Cass closed the door and sat beside her, close enough so that she could feel her presence but far enough away that they weren’t touching. 

Tessa expected to feel the itch she always got when people were around her. She’d never been able to explain it, but there was always this feeling right underneath her skin that made her want to be alone. The only time she’d ever gotten rid of that feeling was when she was with Damian, but that had taken weeks. 

But as Cass sat next to her, silent and unmoving, Tessa felt the raw edges in her chest start to smooth over. Something about the girl’s presence was just… calming. She was a solid thing inside the storm raging in her mind. 

After minutes of silence, Tessa took a deep breath and raised her head. Somehow, she felt better. Or, not better, but more balanced. It still hurt, and she could still feel the hole in her chest, but it didn’t feel like she was bleeding anymore. 

“Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out croaky. 

Cass smiled at her and reached for her hand, but stopped a bit from it. Their eyes met, and she could see the question in her eyes. Tessa nodded, and Cass put her hand on top of her own and squeezed slightly. 

Tessa let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes. 

“I am sorry,” Cass said, squeezing her hand again. 

Tessa opened her eyes and shook her head. “It’s not your fault. It was his choice to tell you guys. It’s not like you forced him to tell you.” 

“Not true,” Cass said, then tapped her chest. 

Tessa frowned. “You forced him to tell you?” 

That couldn’t be true. Sure, Cass could get whatever she wanted from her brothers, but she wouldn’t. If Damian hadn’t wanted to tell her something, she wouldn’t have pushed it. 

“Not me,” Cass said. “Dick.” 

Tessa frowned more. “Cass, it’s sweet that you’re trying to defend Damian, but Dick can’t make Damian tell him something. I’ve seen him lie to his face before. He could’ve done it this time.” 

“Couldn’t,” Cass said. “He threatened to get Bruce.” 

Tessa snorted. “I’ve seen _all_ of you lie to Bruce.” 

Cass smirked. “Only works when it is not actual problem. Bruce is… persistent when it there are actual problems.” 

“Okay, fine, let’s say I give him telling Dick,” she said, even though she definitely didn’t. “What made Dick realize that there was something wrong?” 

“Tim.” 

Tessa scowled. She knew, logically, she shouldn’t be mad at Tim, but it’d been his name that Damian had said. Shoving away her anger she asked, “How did Tim make Dick make Damian tell him?” 

God, that was an awful sentence. 

Cass’s lips twitched up, like she knew it too. “Damian told Tim. Dick overheard. Dick made Damian tell him too.” 

Tessa huffed a laugh, a humorless smile twisting over her lips. “So Damian did tell someone without any reason. Good to know.” 

She ignored the way her gut twisted. Ignored the hope that had flared within her when Cass had started explaining what had happened. 

“No,” Cass said, frowning. “He… he told Tim because Tim had been helping. They had been working together to find out who hurt you.” 

Tessa stared. She’d known Damian had been trying to figure it out, but he’d asked Tim for help? Tim-Tim? The person that he was constantly complaining about? The person who he argued with multiple times every time she was here? That Tim? 

“I am telling the truth,” Cass said gently. 

“I know,” Tessa said, looking at Cass. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me, but Tim? Damian and Tim had worked together?” 

Cass smiled. “That is why Dick made Damian tell him too. He was worried why they were getting along.” 

Okay. Fine. She could see that. If she’d seen Tim and Damian working together she would have figured the world was ending. But he still shouldn’t have told anyone. He’d still broken his promise. Telling Tim because he’d been helpful wasn’t a good enough reason. 

Tessa asked, “How’d you find out?” 

Cass’s smiled turned bashful. “I may have been listening. I am sorry. I did not know beforehand what they were talking about.” 

Tessa gave the gave the girl a once over, then squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to apologize.” 

“I am still sorry,” Cass said, looking at her with unnerving stillness. “If I had known, I would not have listened.” 

“I know,” Tessa said, and she did. Cass might know her entire family’s secrets, but it wasn’t because she went around and got them nefariously. They came to her. She’d probably been listening to make sure that there wasn’t something bad going on. She couldn’t be mad at her for doing that. 

“And Jason?” Tessa asked. 

“Damian called him to help us stop your dad,” Cass said, face turning to stone. 

Tessa froze. “Damian told you guys so you could help me?” 

Cass nodded. 

Her breath caught in her chest. Damian… Damian told them so they could help her. He’d broken his promise to try and keep her safe. To protect her. And yeah, she didn’t need him to protect her or anything, she could perfectly handle that herself, but… but he’d cared enough about her to try and do something to– 

No. _No_. He’d still broken his promise. He’d still went against his word. It didn’t matter if he’d done it for good reasons. It didn’t matter if he’d done it to help her. He’d promised. And then he’d broken it. End of story. 

But… “Did it work?” 

Cass looked at her. “Do you have new bruises?” 

Tessa frowned. It’d been three weeks since Damian found out and… no. No, she hadn’t gotten any new bruises. Her dad hadn’t so much as touched her. She’d just assumed it was a good week but… but no, it’d been a long while since he’d hit her. And every time he came home and saw her, he’d just… leave. He wouldn’t yell at her or hit her or do anything. He’d just leave. 

She’d assumed he couldn’t be bothered with her but… 

She looked at Cass, at the anger glinting in her eyes. The satisfaction. 

She had no idea what they’d done, but Damian and his siblings had done something and it’d gotten her Father to stop hurting her. She looked at Cass again, opening her mouth, but closed it. She didn’t want to know. 

“Thank you,” Tessa whispered. 

“Thank Damian.” 

Tessa frowned. She… she wanted… she didn’t know what she wanted. She wanted to yell at him for breaking his promise. She wanted to be mad at him. But she also wanted to kiss him and tell him thank you for always looking out for her. 

She groaned and hit her head against the wall. 

“Forgive him,” Cass said. “He may have broken his word, but his heart is in the right place. He was trying to protect you.” 

“I don’t need protecting,” Tessa mumbled. 

“Maybe not,” Cass said, “But that does not mean he will stop protecting you, even if he has to break his word to do it.” 

Tessa frowned. This wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t she just be mad at him? Not that she wanted to be mad at him, but he’d been wrong even if he’d done it for the right reasons and– 

She hated this. Why couldn’t everything be simple? 

“I’m still mad,” Tessa said. 

Cass huffed a laugh. “Be mad. But forgive him too.” 

Tessa scowled, but mumbled. “Fine.” 

“Good,” Cass said. “Now we can talk about blackmail.” 

Tessa glared. “I’m not doing it.” 

“It will help,” Cass said. “If done, we can make sure your father will not hurt you now and will leave you alone in the future.” 

“Didn’t you just say that you guys had already found a solution?” Tessa asked. “Why do we need to do this too?” 

“It will not last forever,” Cass said. 

Tessa huffed. 

“Why do you not want to?” Cass asked. 

Because blackmailing her dad wouldn’t do anything but make him angry. Because blackmailing him wouldn’t end with anything but pain for her. Because blackmailing him wouldn’t stop him because he’d call her bluff. Because when it came down to it, she wouldn’t release them. 

Cass frowned, her eyes flickering over her face. “You are afraid.” 

Tessa tilted her chin up. “So what if I am?” 

“You do not have to be,” Cass said, her gaze unwavering. “We would not let him hurt you.” 

Tessa shook her head. They didn’t get it. Her dad… if she tried to blackmail him, he’d always try and come after her and try to make it so she couldn’t. Blackmailing him wouldn’t stop him, it’d only make him worse, but she couldn’t tell them that because they wouldn’t understand. 

“You do not think it will work,” Cass said, still staring at her. 

Tessa met her gaze. “You don’t know my father. Trying to blackmail him will only make things worse.” 

“How?” 

“It doesn’t matter how, it just will,” Tessa said. “Trust me on this one.” 

“How?” Cass repeated. 

She shoved a hand through her hair. “Because my dad won’t stop just because someone is blackmailing him.” 

Cass raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine, you want an actual explanation?” Tessa said, turning to face the girl fully. “Trying to blackmail him would only make him worse. He’d never stop until he had the information. He’d be that much more manipulative and awful because of it. And, eventually, he would get the information, and when he does, the blowback will destroy everything. 

“So, unless you can swear that he will not get the information, then no, we are not doing it,” Tessa said. 

“He will not get the information.” 

Tessa frowned and looked at Cass. She… she couldn’t be serious. Not even all the tech at Wayne Enterprises could stop her dad. But… Cass looked serious. That was a promise in her eyes. She thought she could keep the information from her dad indefinitely. 

“Cass–” 

“He will not get the information,” Cass said, turning to face her fully. “I swear it.” 

Tessa stared at her. She looked over her entire face but did not find the lie, the flicker of doubt, the sign that she did not fully believe her words. Cass thought that they could keep the information. If it’d been anyone else, she would have questioned it, but this was Cass. She was the most realistic of everyone in that family, and if she thought that they could… 

“You swear?” Tessa asked. 

“I swear,” Cass said. 

Tessa released a breath. “Then okay,” she said, nodding. “We’ll do it, just… just promise that I won’t have to do it alone.” 

Cass touched her shoulder and said, “You do not have to do anything alone, Tessa. We are here.” 

She bit her lip. It was… strange. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that these people cared about her. She knew Damian did – even if she was still mad at him – but the others? Sure, they tolerated her, but actually cared? Dick and Jason had said they cared about her this morning – god, was it only this morning? – and now Cass was saying that she would be here for her. That they all would. 

Somehow, she’d stumbled into this family that was willing to protect and fight for her, and she didn’t know how she’d gotten here. She couldn’t quite believe that it was actually true. There was just… too many factors that made it impossible. And yet here they were, saying they cared, and willing to help her blackmail her dad so that he won’t be able to hurt her anymore. 

“Come,” Cass said, standing up and offering a hand. “The others will be looking for us.” 

Tessa took her hand, letting Cass pull her to her feet. “Looking for us?” 

“Yes,” Cass said. “We were looking for you. I did not tell the others when I found you.” 

Tessa laughed softly. Of course Cass would do that. 

Quietly they walked out of the room, Cass leading the way, mostly because Tessa had no idea where she was. The place was huge. If Cass hadn’t found her, she probably would have spent an hour wandering around trying to find a place that she recognized. 

They eventually got to the living room and found everyone in there. Every head turned towards. Tessa squashed the urge to hide behind Cass when she met Damian’s eyes, insistent and searching. She swallowed hard. He looked worried. 

She squashed her pity. She was mad at him. She was mad _at him_. She was _mad_ at him– 

His face relaxed and nothing but regret swarmed over it. No. That wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to just… look sad and regretful and she’d stop being mad. She got to be mad. He didn’t get to just pull a puppy-dog face that was insanely adorable and not at all on purpose and make her forgive him without even realizing it. No. He had to fucking apologize. 

He stepped towards her hesitantly. Distantly she realized that Cass wasn’t standing next to her anymore, but she was too focused on watching Damian walk towards her to really care. 

She crossed her arms as he came to a stop in front of her, his eyes darting over her face as he looked for something. Probably trying to gauge how mad she was. Well, she was pissed. Beyond pissed. He’d lied, and it’d been for a good reason, and he’d made her confused, and rethink everything, and hate him, and not hate him, and understand, and like him even more, and– 

“Tessa, I’m so sor–” 

She didn’t let him finish. 

Without thinking, she grabbed his shirt and kissed him, hard and fast. She put all her anger and pain and confusion into it because she didn’t know what else to do with all of it, and then she pulled away without even letting him return it and stepped backwards, putting the space between them again. 

Damian stared at her, dazed and confused. Good. 

“I’m still mad at you,” Tessa said, crossing her arms. 

“Okay,” Damian said, blinking slowly. 

“That changed nothing,” she said, glaring. 

“Okay,” Damian breathed. 

A laugh cut through the moment, followed by a single person applauding. 

Tessa felt her face grow hot as she looked around Damian and found Jason _wolf-whistling_ and applauding. Shit. _Shit_. She’d just kissed Damian in front of his entire family. God, they were all _smiling_ at her and looking so damn proud like she’d just done the most amazing thing in the world. 

A cough came from behind. Tessa turned around, beet red, and came face to face with Bruce Wayne. 

No. Fuck no. This was not happening. There was no fucking way that this was happening. She did not just kiss Damian Wayne in front of his dad, Bruce Wayne, and then tell him how mad she was. No. No way. It wasn’t happening. 

“So does this mean that I should stop telling the press that you two aren’t dating?” Bruce Wayne asked, looking between the two of them. 

Tessa looked at Damian, mostly because she didn’t know what else to do, but found him looking at her already, waiting for an answer. She scowled. Of course he was going to make her answer. This was just fucking perfect. 

She turned back around, hoping her face wasn’t as red, and said, “Yes.” 

It came out as more of a squeak. 

“Alright,” Bruce said, fighting back a smile. God, he was trying not to laugh at them. She watched as his eyes turned to Damian. “I don’t know what you did, but you should probably make it up to her. I, for one, like having her around.” 

And then he walked away. Like he hadn’t just said he liked her. 

As soon as he was gone, the entire room burst out laughing. 

She turned around, half glaring at them, and found half of them nearly falling over they were laughing so hard. Then Jason pointed at Damian, gasping out something unintelligible, and then promptly lost his balance and fell to the floor without stopping. 

Tessa turned and found Damian’s face bright red, his face slack. It was like in a cartoon when they had someone’s mouth hit the floor. She couldn’t help it – a laugh bubbled out of her chest. 

Damian flicked his eyes to her, and she tried – she really did try – to glare, but all she could do was laugh and smile because his face was just pure gold. 

When they finally stopped laughing and actually sat down, still clutching their stomachs and wiping tears from their eyes, Tessa found herself sitting next to Damian. She glared at him, crossed her arms, and then promptly leaned into his side. After only a moment of hesitation, Damian wrapped his arm around her shoulder. 

Across the room, Cass said, “Tessa has agreed to the blackmailing.” 

All eyes turned to her, and Damian asked, “Really?” 

She nodded. “As long as you can promise my father won’t be able to obtain the information so that it’s obsolete, we can do it.” 

“We’d never lose it,” Damian said, looking offended that she’d even think it. 

She glared at him. “I know you have a bunch of fancy Wayne Tech, but that doesn’t mean that everything’s foolproof.” 

“Right,” Dick said, glaring at Damian. “But we know how to do this, Tessa. He won’t be able to take the information from us.” 

“Okay,” she said, looking around the room. “Then how do we do this?” 

“First,” Damian said, “we have to get Father.” 

“What?” 

“I thought we weren’t–” 

“We’re telling him?” 

“When did we decide–” 

“Why wouldn’t we tell him?” Tessa asked, cutting them all off. 

Jason cleared his throat. “Well, you see, B can kind of be a stickler when it comes to things like this. He might be… against this kind of method.” 

“Oh,” she said. 

“Yeah,” Dick said. “He tends to like to deal with criminals by turning them over to the police.” 

Tessa froze, her eyes widening. 

“He won’t,” Damian said, squeezing her shoulders. “Not this time. I promise.” 

Her heart twisted. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. She stopped the words on the tip of her tongue. Why should I trust your word? What’s different about this time? What does your promise actually count for? 

From the way his eyes flickered, she knew he heard her anyway. 

“And if he does?” Jason asked, speaking the question she had wanted to ask. 

“Then we stop him,” Damian said, looking away from her and at the rest of the room. “By whatever means necessary.” 

“Whatever means necessary,” Cass said, nodding her head. Their eyes met. 

“Okay,” she said, nodding at Cass. 

Dick stood up. “I’ll get Bruce then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey losers, how's it going?
> 
> So, two of you guessed that Cass would be the one talking to Tessa, and I honestly feel offended that I'm getting this predictable. Like really, I thought I was being great about doing whatever, and then here you guys come guessing what I'm doing next. I'm kinda proud that you guys can do it and kinda annoyed that you guys can do it, but eh. I'll guess we'll see how well you guys can figure out the rest of the story :)
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments or on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/). You guys always make my day with them.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and the batfam blackmail her dad

It took an hour to set up the meeting with her dad. It’d been nearly impossible to track him down, and it’d only happened when Bruce had disappeared for fifteen minutes and came back with the number of a hotel in downtown that he’d been seen walking into last night. 

It’d taken half an hour of Bruce simply talking on the phone with him. Tessa had sat next to Damian the entire time, trying not to fidget as she listened. The only reason it hadn’t taken longer was that her dad had finally gone online and figured out what was happening, then yelled at Bruce so loud that they’d heard his voice from around the corner. It was only when Bruce’s voice had gone absolutely cold that her dad had shut up and agreed to meet. 

For the entirety of that hour and the next two that followed, they’d pulled everything off the web that could lead to her dad abusing her and made the contract with the list of everything that he’d ever done to her. She’d had to stop multiple times when she was doing that. Damian had had to leave at one point. Dick had followed him. They’d come back five minutes later, and Damian hadn’t left her side since. 

Now it was 3:28, and her dad was supposed to be here in two minutes. 

She felt sick. If it hadn’t been for all of them sitting around her, laughing and joking and reminding her again and again that she wouldn’t have to do this alone, that they were all going to be there, that they wouldn’t leave her, she probably would have bolted. 

She felt Damian’s hand slip into her own. She turned and smiled at him. 

She flinched when the doorbell rang at 3:36. 

Distantly she heard the front door open and Alfred greet her dad coolly. She heard him lead him through the house and to the room that they’d prepared. That meant it was time for them to go. 

She looked at Damian, about to ask what they were supposed to do, when Bruce walked into the room and said, “Tessa, can I talk to you for a moment?” 

She met Damian eyes, heart thudding. Damian merely squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead, then gently pushed her towards Bruce Wayne. She tried not to stumble as she walked towards him. 

He walked around the corner, and she followed numbly. It was only when they were far enough away that the others wouldn’t be able to hear that he turned towards her and said, “I know you don’t know me, but I’m sorry that you are going through this. If I had known, I would have done something to get you out of this situation sooner.” 

Tessa froze, her breath catching. Did… did Bruce Wayne just say that? Did he really just tell her that he was sorry he hadn’t done something sooner? 

“I want you to know that from now on, if you need anything or if you ever need a safe space you can come here, no questions asked,” he said, his eyes boring into her. It was all she could do not to look away. “You are always welcome here, Tessa. Any day, any time. Okay?” 

She nodded, mostly because she was pretty sure she couldn’t speak. 

“Good,” Bruce said, smiling at her. “Now, if at any point during this conversation you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, you are allowed to leave. I will make sure that he doesn’t hurt you, now or ever again, but you do not have to be in that room if you do not want to be. You are in control of this situation, not him. You are the one who has the freedom to do whatever you need to do.” 

“Okay,” she croaked, fighting back tears. 

“Do you understand that?” he asked. “You are in control, Tessa. You. No one else. From now on, the only person who gets to decide what you do is you.” 

Tessa nodded, wiping at the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. 

Without a word Bruce put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. She buried her head in his chest, barely registering that she was hugging Bruce Wayne because right now, in that moment, she could only see someone who cared about her and was so overwhelmed with the emotion that it was the only thing that she could process. 

When she didn’t feel like crying anymore she pulled away, rubbing her hands over her cheeks. She smiled up at him and said, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Bruce said, a hand still on her shoulder. “Now, are you ready?” 

She took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.” 

She walked into the room with her head held high. She felt her dad’s gaze burn into her, an iron looking to leave its mark. She didn’t meet his gaze. She wasn’t ready for that. 

Bruce pulled out a seat at the table and sat. She took the seat to his right, with Damian on her left. Tim took the seat to Bruce’s left. They’d decided that the others should wait in the other room. Too many of them, and it’d ruin the effect. They just needed the necessary players, and the four of them would be it. 

She saw her dad take in each of them, his gaze cold and calculating. He was trying to figure out what they were doing, and why it was it was them. He practically sneered when he looked at Damian. She felt him tense beside her, his hands balling into fists. Gently she slipped her hand into his. 

“Bruce Wayne,” her dad said, sticking out his hand. Bruce didn’t take it. Coughing, her dad lowered it and said, “I’m assuming you called me here so we could talk about our children’s behavior.” 

“Why would you assume that?” Bruce asked, voice cold. 

“Well they’ve been sneaking behind our backs,” Dad said, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know about you, but I think it’s wrong for a child to lie to their parent.” 

His eyes flicked to her, and she tensed. The words bit into her brain, the urge to _run_ , to _hide_ flicking through her, the instinct ingrained so deep that she twitched in her chair. 

Both Damian and Bruce looked at her. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. 

She was safe here. He couldn’t hurt her in this room. Damian wouldn’t let him. Neither would Bruce or Tim. She was safe, and in control, and he had no power here. She had the power. She was the one who had control. 

When she opened her eyes, she found Bruce glaring at her dad. The look was terrifying. It was the same dark look that Damian got whenever she talked about her dad. She looked to her right and – and Damian had the same expression. Tim was the only one who still had the cool, indifferent mask on. It was him that her dad glanced to, the control in his eyes splintering. 

“I don’t know about you, Mr. Morgan,” Bruce said, voice low, “but my child hasn’t lied to me once, and seeing how they weren’t involved until this morning, I don’t see how Tessa could have lied to you either.” 

Her dad frowned, still leaning back in his chair. “Maybe not, but she still did not inform me that she was friends with your son.” 

“Did you ever ask?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow. The thundering anger had once again been replaced with the calm that he’d had when they’d walked in. 

Her dad frowned further. “Why did you call me here, Mr. Wayne?” 

Bruce smiled without joy and said, “I wanted to inform you that if you do not stop hurting your daughter, I will be telling the entire world what you have done.” 

Tessa froze as her dad sat up straight, anger making his features harsh. It took everything within her not to run from that look, the one that promised pain, the one she’d grown up learning to fear, the one that meant she’d screwed up and he’d make sure she knew it. 

Damian squeezed her hand. She forced a breath down her throat. 

She was here. She was safe. He couldn’t hurt her. She was the one in control, not him. 

“I don’t know what Tessa has been telling you,” her dad ground out, turning his eyes to Bruce, “but I can assure you that it is not true. I have never laid a hand on her in my life.” 

“Really?” Tim asked, pulling out a folder. “Because you might want to take a look at these and then reconsider that statement.” 

Tim put a folder on the table and slid it towards him. 

Tessa couldn’t drag her eyes away from it. Her throat bobbed. That folder… it contained everything. A hard copy of everything that had been done to her, all the hurt and pain that would lead the media to their doorsteps. She tried not to cringe at how thick it was. 

With a glance at the four of them, her dad picked up the folder and flipped it open. 

She watched his face turn to stone as he quickly flipped through all the papers. 

He turned a burning gaze to her, and she flinched. Her every instinct in her screamed at her. She ignored them and met that burning gaze. Tried to. Tried to not balk from it or flee from the pain it promised. Tried to meet it with one of her own. 

His lips pulled back in disgust, and he turned that burning gaze on Bruce. The mask of innocence, the mask of the caring father, the mask of the politician, fell. “If you know what’s good for you, Mr. Wayne, you’ll hand me your copy of this information and walk away.” 

Bruce’s smile was anything but kind. “No, Mr. Morgan, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen very closely to what I have to say next.” 

Her dad’s hands tightened on the folder, but he didn’t say anything. 

“That’ folder,” Bruce said, “contains the hard copy of the drive that we now have recording everything that you’ve done to hurt Tessa. It shows every trip to the hospital, every picture of a bruise or a broken bone, all the absences from school, the pictures of her flinching away from you, and the days that you would leave and not come back. It documents every bit of child abuse that you have inflicted, as well as a list of all the times Tessa could remember that we could not find a document of. 

“Now, if you sign this contract confessing all your crimes, promising to never harm her again, and that you will never contact her again once she turns 18, I’ll keep my little flash drive all to myself,” Bruce said, sliding the contract towards him. “If you don’t, I’ll mail it to every media outlet and police station in Gotham. If you sign and then break it, I will do the same. Do you understand me?” 

Tessa’s heart beat wildly in her chest, a frantic pulse that nearly drowned out the words around her. There it was. The words were out. 

Her dad sneered. “Why would I agree to sign your absurd contract? If you were able to find all of this, then the media will too. Signing it would only condemn me.” 

“It would, if we hadn’t taken all this information off the internet,” Tim said, a lazy look on his face. 

Tessa looked at him, at the nearly bored look, and realized that the Tim she’d come to know wasn’t the one she was looking at. This was the Tim who ran Wayne Enterprises, who dealt with people like her dad on a daily basis and wore this mask to specifically piss them off. As her dad’s face turned red, she realized it worked perfectly. 

“See, as much as we’d all love to see you rot in jail, we realized that wouldn’t be what was best for Tessa,” Tim said, leaning forward. “You’d go to jail, and then you’d come back and try to hurt her – not that we’d let you, but still. Your idiotic, pathetic ass would still try. 

“Anyway, we decided that the best way to help Tessa would be to take everything off the internet and then use it against you so that you could never hurt or come near her again,” Tim said with a shrug. “With this information, we can get rid of you from her life just like that.” He snapped his fingers. 

Her dad’s lips curled. “You’re blackmailing me.” 

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” Tim said, fake surprise on his face. 

“It’s your choice, Mr. Morgan,” Bruce said. “You can either sign this contract and never hurt Tessa again, then swear to never contact or see her again once she turns 18, or we can send all this information out so the entire world knows exactly who you are. The choice is yours.” 

For a single, blistering moment she thought that her dad would reject the offer. The rage twisting his face, the hatred, it was so all-encompassing that she thought he’d spit in all their faces and tell them to go to hell. 

Then his mouth tightened, that rage being contained, and he ground out, “Do you have a pen?” 

Tim smiled sweetly and slid one across the table. “Good choice.” 

In a single, quick motion her dad signed the contract, and just like that, she was free. 

She nearly cried right then and there. 

Would have, if her dad hadn’t asked, “And what will happen to Tessa for these next two years?” 

She stilled, looking to Damian. 

But it was Bruce who said, “For appearances, she will continue to live with you, but you will not interact with her beyond what is necessary. If I were you, I wouldn’t so much as breath in her direction.” His eyes were sharp, his voice light as he continued, “One wrong look in her direction is all it will take to ruin this agreement. You harm her in anyway, physically, mentally, or emotionally, and everyone finds out. You breathe at her the wrong way and you’re done.” 

Her dad’s lips curled, but he didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to or not. 

She’d still live with him – hadn’t thought that there’d even been another option. But he wouldn’t be able to hurt her, wouldn’t interact with her at all. She’d have her freedom in that house even if his presence would make her itch. 

But it was better. Better than she’d ever dreamed. And in two years, she’d be free of him entirely. She’d never have to look over her shoulder again. 

Bruce stood up, taking the contract. “I’ll send you a copy of it within the next three days, just so you can have proof.” 

She read the words underneath. That he could have the contract as a reminder. 

“Alfred will show you out,” Bruce said, and with one look at them they were standing up and trailing him out of the room. 

It was only when they reached the door, half-out, that Tim turned back and said, “You can keep the folder.” 

None of them looked back after that, even when they heard Alfred enter the room and told her dad to follow him this way. 

As they walked back into one of the many studies throughout the house, everyone who hadn’t been in that room stood up and looked at them, a question in their eyes. 

Bruce held up the contract and said, “He signed it.” 

The room seemed to release a sigh at the words. 

Then voices erupted, questions being thrown out, so many that she could barely hear but Bruce and Tim were expertly answering them, no doubt used to this way of communication that this family seemed to use. 

She walked backwards until her back hit the wall and let the entire world fade away. 

They’ did it. They actually did it. 

They blackmailed her dad. They got him to sign the contract. They got him to promise to never touch her again. 

A tear slid down her face. She didn’t care. They _did_ it. They stopped him. They made it so that she was safe from him, that she was free. For the first time in her life, she was free. She could do whatever she wanted without having to worry about how her dad would react. 

A hand cupped her face, brushing away the tear. 

She opened her eyes and found Damian smiling softly at her. She didn’t have to open her mouth to explain what she was feeling, just like he didn’t have to open his. In that moment, they knew exactly what the other was saying. 

His hand dropped from his face to her hand, lacing them together. Without a word he pulled her out of the room, to the hall beyond and the silence that it brought. Beyond it, to a room across the hall. 

When the door shut she let the tears finally come. 

The stress of the day, the entirety of waking up and the paparazzi, the way she’d tried to walk away from Damian, their kiss, the hurt she’d felt after, the talk with Cass, telling Bruce, confronting her dad – all of it washed over her like a wave and all she could do to release it was to cry. 

Damian wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest without a word. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his chest and just breathing him in, letting the steadiness of his heartbeat smooth out the shredded bits inside her. 

He held her until she stopped crying minutes later, his head resting on top of her head and continued to rest there while she took deep, shaking breaths. 

When she could finally speak, she mumbled against his chest, “I’m still mad at you.” 

And she was. He’d went against his word, no matter how good the reason was. She could understand why, could even thank him for it, but she also couldn’t quite forgive him for it, not yet. Not for a while. 

“I know,” he said, his arms tightening ever so slightly. “You can be mad at me for as long as you want. I’ll be right here whenever you’re ready to forgive me.” 

“You better be,” she said, pushing away to glare at him. “I might be mad at you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try this. Try us.” 

Damian seemed to relax slightly at those words. Like he’d been scared she wouldn’t want to do this anymore. 

But she did. She was mad, and hurt, but she didn’t want to give up. She wanted to see where they went. 

“Tell me what you need,” he said, leaning his head against hers. “Tell me and it’s yours.” 

She smiled slightly. “Big words.” 

“True words,” he countered. 

Her heart skipped a beat. “Take me on that first date,” she whispered. “The one you promised.” 

“Done,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. 

They stayed like that for uncountable minutes, their heads pressed together and just breathing. 

The silence broke when Damian asked, “Do you still want to tell the world?” 

“Yes,” she said, and meant it. 

If they were going to do this, they were going to put it all out there. They weren’t going to hide. _She_ wasn’t going to hide. She was done with it. Done with the masks and the lies and the secrets. For once in her life, she wanted to put everything out there for the world to see. 

“Okay,” Damian said. 

She stayed there for ten more seconds, breathing in the moment. Then she pushed away and said, “I need some space to think. I’m going to just… just wander around, if that’s okay.” 

“Okay,” Damian said, letting his hands drop from around her. “If you need me, I’ll be with the others.” 

She nodded, and walked out of the room, giving herself some time alone with her thoughts. 

\---------------------------- 

Damian walked back into the room and found his entire family, Bruce and Alfred included, looking at him. 

It was Cass who asked, “Is she alright?” 

Damian nodded. “Yeah, she just needs some space to sort out her thoughts.” 

The others nodded. They all knew the feeling. The need to be alone to piece everything together. To figure themselves out. It came with the job. 

“Before she gets back,” Father said, and they all looked at him, “I think there’s something we need to discuss.” 

The entire room tensed. 

He knew they’d have this conversation eventually. Father might have been all for helping Tessa, but he would eventually ask why they hadn’t told him sooner. They’d all known the question would come, and the lecture after it. 

“What did you do to her father before this?” 

Everyone froze, eyes widening. 

Dick was the first to recover, coughing, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Damian cringed. That was pathetic. 

Father seemed to agree, his eyes narrowing. “Want to try that again?” 

Steph stood up, stepping behind Babs and saying, “Since Babs and I weren’t involved we’ll ju–” 

“Sit,” Bruce said, and Steph sat without another word. He turned his gaze to him, and Damian tensed. “What did you do?” 

Damian raised his chin, letting the lack of regret shine in his eyes as he said, “I may have convinced the others to help me threaten him in our vigilante forms.” 

Father looked at him for a long moment, assessing. Damian didn’t flinch under the gaze, didn’t back down like he might have if it were a different situation. He’d take the fall for this. Take it a million times over, if it meant that Tessa’s dad didn’t hurt her. 

“And did he find Robin’s warning threatening?” Father asked, gaze level. 

Damian looked back unblinkingly and said, “He did when Jason held a gun to his head.” 

Jason let out a squawk of protest, but Father didn’t look away from Damian at the words. Didn’t so much as flinch or let a flicker of anger cross his face at the use of guns. Didn’t do anything but meet his gaze and say, “Good.” 

The entire room seemed to stutter at that single word, everyone going dead silent as it struck each and every single one of them. 

It was Dick who asked, “What?” 

Father finally looked away from him, meeting Grayson’s eyes. “I’m assuming you did it safely.” His eyes flicked to Jason. 

“The gun wasn’t loaded,” Jason said. His face darkened. Damian knew he would have shot the bastard. Knew he would have let him. That’s why he’d made Jason only bring an empty gun. 

“Then good,” Father said, leaning back in his seat. “The man deserves to know fear.” 

“You’re not mad?” Jason asked, disbelieving. 

Damian met Alfred’s eyes across the room. The man simply raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his face as if to say _I told you so_. Damian had to bite his tongue to keep the smile off his face. 

“No, Jason, I’m not mad, though I wish you would not have used guns,” Father said. 

“Damian used his katana first,” Jason said, pointing at him. 

He scowled. “I barely nicked him.” 

“Both of you,” Bruce cut in, voice hard, “need to not come close to killing. You’re better than it.” 

Jason sighed falling back into the couch. “Here we go. The we-don’t-kill speech. I’m so excited.” 

Father glared, opening his mouth to start the speech they’d all heard too many times, but Alfred cut in and said, “Maybe now isn’t the best time for this conversation, Master Bruce.” 

“Yeah, listen to Alfie,” Jason said. “He’s always right.” 

The room dissolved after that, everyone talking and arguing and bickering, Jason doing a mock we-don’t-kill speech and Father glaring at him for it, but Damian didn’t care. He just listened to his family and soaked up the moment. 

\---------------------------- 

It took her a while, but she found the room she’d wandered into hours ago. With purposeful strides she walked across the room and crouched down, scooping up the necklace that she’d thrown across the room. 

The black pendant spun slightly as she held up the chain. Smiling, she clasped it around her neck again, letting the feel of it brushing against her skin just below her collarbone settle her. 

She may have only had it for a day, but something about wearing it seemed right. Like it belonged with her, like it was meant to be on her neck. 

Standing up she walked out of the room, unable to keep the small smile from her face as she wandered the halls of Wayne Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey losers, look! We hit twenty chapters! And 80K words!
> 
> That's honestly so insane to me, especially since we've still got a good bit of story left to go. I know exactly where I'm heading, don't worry, I just don't quite know how long it will take to get there, so honestly, this fic might end up being like 150K words which is so freaking massive and kinda making me really excited since I haven't written something that long in a while.
> 
> Okay. Serious questions. WHAT DO YOU THINK TESSA AND DAMIAN'S SHIP NAME SHOULD BE? 
> 
> I need it for the next chap, so comment below what you think it should be, and the most frequent name commented will be the one I use :)


	21. CHapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa and Damian go on their first date

Tessa woke up the next morning with a text from Cass lighting up her screen. 

Groaning she pulled her phone towards her and opened the message, sitting fully upright as the article she’d sent appeared on the screen, the headline screaming at her in big, bold letters: **DAMIAN WAYNE HAS A NEW GIRLFRIEND, AND YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHO IT IS.**

Heart thundering, she waited for the article to load, and found the pictures of her and Damian from Christmas and the ones they’d “posed” for yesterday when he dropped her back off at her house at the top of the page. 

_On Christmas night, one of our reporters caught pictures of Cassandra Wayne, Bruce Wayne’s adopted daughter, picking up a mystery girl from her house and bringing her back to Wayne Manor. We then caught this girl with Damian Wayne on a porch in Wayne Manor exchanging gifts, and then Damian driving this girl back to her house and giving her a farewell hug before leaving._

Tessa looked at the pictures again, something between a frown and a smile on her face. 

_Yesterday the world blew up wondering who this girl was and what the relationship between her and Damian Wayne was, and we can now confirm that the two are, in fact, dating. The girl, Tessa Morgan, daughter of politician Walter Morgan, attends Gotham Academy with Damian, where they met and began to form their relationship. According to their classmates, the two didn’t start talking until she hurt herself in their physical education class during a soccer match, where Damian swept in and helped her after she’d injured her ankle._

She snorted, stifling a laugh. Of course the story would be put that he’d saved her. Ha. Like that had happened. She’d barely let him help her walk across the field. 

Actually, how the hell did they even get that information? Did they call people at the school? Not that she wouldn’t put it past them, but still. That seemed… strange. Was strange. That’d take some time to get used to. 

_Fans of the two ‘oohed’ and ‘awed’ at the story, calling it sweet that even before they were dating he was coming to her rescue, saying it was meant to be if they were like that when they didn’t know the other. In the past day, their relationship was made public, there has been nothing but overwhelming support for the two, newly dubbed Dessa, with people calling them a power couple._

She laughed at that one, a hand over her mouth to smother the sound. Dessa. They had a freaking _ship name_. Oh my god, she couldn’t _breathe_ , that had to be the best thing she’d ever heard in her entire life. They had a freaking ship name. 

And they were apparently considered a power couple. What the hell. Sure, Damian could be one half of a power couple, but her? No way. She definitely didn’t fit the M.O., but apparently, people were willing to call anyone with some sort of fame that these days. She stifled another laugh. 

She scrolled through the rest of the article, skimming for anything interesting but didn’t find anything. It mainly just talked about who she was, since apparently people now wanted to know that since she was dating Damian. Closing the article, she opened up the texts with Cass again and sent: 

> **T: This is ridiculous**

The reply came a moment later. 

> **C: Yes**

> **C: Do you regret it?**

Tessa twirled her phone in her hand. She didn’t exactly like all of her information out there on the web, or that people would be hounding her, or the way all the attention would be focused on her, but did she regret it?

> **T: No**

> **C: Good**

Smiling, Tessa flipped her phone in her hand. And then she opened up her contacts and called Damian. 

He answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Can’t I just call you?” 

“Yes,” Damian said, then added, “You just haven’t.” 

“Well, we haven’t dated before either but we’re doing that.” 

She nearly cringed at the annoyance in her voice. Sure, she was annoyed, he didn’t have to automatically assume something was wrong, and saying she didn’t just call him out of the blue was true but also things were different, and she was still mad at him, and– 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she could hear the strain in his voice. The worry. She cringed that time. “What’s up?’ 

“I just…” she trailed off. “I just wanted to talk to you.” 

“Yeah?” She could hear the smile in his voice. 

Stifling a laugh, she said, “Yeah.” 

And she did. After reading that article, after having it affirmed in a new day that wasn’t clouded by all the shit that had gone down yesterday that she still wanted to d this, she wanted to hear his voice. 

After a moment she asked, “Did Cass send you the article about us?” 

A beat of hesitation. “She did.” 

She smiled, her nose scrunching, and said, “I’m not sure I like Dessa.” 

Damian snorted a laugh, the sound seeming to escape him before he could stop it. She grinned into the phone. She loved when she got him to laugh. He didn’t do it nearly enough. 

“So, about our date,” Damian said. 

Her heart skipped a beat. “What about it?” 

“Would you like to go on it tonight?” 

The grin that split her face made her face hurt. 

“I’d love that.” 

“I’ll pick you up at seven?” 

“Sounds perfect,” she said, then asked, “What should I wear?” 

“Something warm,” he said. 

She frowned. “Not something fancy?” 

She’d assumed he’d take her to some restaurant that was so fancy you couldn’t pronounce the dishes, with white table clothes and piano music and servers in bowties. 

“If you want,” Damian said. “It’s not necessary, though.” 

“Okay,” she said. It came out more like a question. 

She could practically hear Damian’s smirk as he said, “I’ll see you at seven.” 

He hung before she could answer. 

Huffing she put her phone on the bed beside her. What the hell was he planning? Why the hell did she need to wear something warm? Sure, it was winter, and it was Gotham, which meant that everything was freezing, but why something specifically warm? Were they going to be outside? 

With a sigh, Tessa threw off the covers and walked into her bathroom. She might as well spend a day making herself feel pretty. 

\----------------------- 

“I need your help.” 

Dick turned, meeting his eyes. Damian shifted from foot to foot. 

“What’s up, Little D?” Dick said, walking over and crossing his arms. 

For whatever reason, Damian felt like a little kid again. Like the ten-year-old who showed up at the manor with blood on his hands and anger in his heart. He might come eye-to-eye with Dick now, but as he looked at his big brother he suddenly felt tiny again. 

“I’m going on my date with Tessa tonight and I require…” He paused, swallowing his pride. “Assistance.” 

p>Dick blinked, once, and then the biggest smile spread across his face. Nope. No. This was a bad idea. This was a terrible, awful, _horrible_ idea. He shouldn’t have come to Dick for this. He should have gone to Cass. Cass would have been the much better choice, not Dick with his over-protective, always-helping, big-hearted ways that would make him take this and smother him with it. Maybe he still had time to– 

“Aw, Dami, it’s okay to be nervous,” Dick said. “I know you’ve never done this before and we’re all really proud and happy for you and I’m totally here to give you tips I just…” 

Dick stopped, and Damian felt his entire face flush red. God, why did he have to point _that_ out? Yes, it was true, but did he have to _say_ it. He was already nervous without thinking about that. 

Dick just looked at him, one of those dopey smiles on his face. Just when it was starting to be uncomfortable, Dick stepped forward and gave him a bear hug. 

Damian groaned, squirming. “Let go of me.” 

“No,” Dick said, hugging him so tight Damian couldn’t breathe. “I’m so happy you came to me for this, if you need help with ideas I–” 

“Dick,” Damian gasped. “Oxygen.” 

“Oh,” Dick said, letting go. Damian sucked in a breath. “Sorry.” 

Damian half-glared. He’d been finding it harder and harder to glare at his siblings recently. It was really grating on his nerves. 

“So,” Dick said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you need help thinking of date ideas?” 

Damian pressed his lips into a line. “Actually, I need your help to set up.” 

\----------------------- 

When seven o’clock rolled around, she’d taken a shower, painted her nails dark blue, straightened her hair, did winged eyeliner and a blush-colored lipstick, and put on a cute outfit that consisted of light-wash ripped boyfriend jeans, a too-big cream sweater half-tucked, a gray beanie, and the same chunk-heel combat boots she’d worn on Christmas. 

So when Damian rang her doorbell, she grabbed the purse she packed and the long-gray overcoat that would keep the cold out and practically ran down the stairs. 

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. 

He was wearing jeans and a black turtleneck with a long black overcoat, and he was grinning at her, a bouquet of lilies in his hand. 

She looked at the flowers – her favorite flowers – and grinned. It was cliché, and ridiculous, and she loved every minute of it. 

“Hey,” she breathed. 

“Hey,” he said, extending the flowers to her. “These are for you.” 

Still grinning she took them, bringing them to her face and taking a deep breath. God, she had to look like an idiot with this stupid smile on her face. Would look like an idiot for the rest of the night, because there was no way that she was going to stop smiling. 

“Stay right there,” she said, then darted back into her house. 

It took a minute and a half to grab a vase from the top shelf of the cabinets and fill it with water, putting the flowers inside. Then she was walking back towards him, and he had this stupidly soft smile on his stupid face that was making her heart do stupid things. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

She nodded. Without another word he took her hand and led her from her house and to his car. And like the gentleman he was, he opened the door for her before slipping into the driver's seat and pulling into the street. 

She lasted all of a minute before she asked, “So where are we going?” 

Damian looked at her out of the corner of his eye, a smirk playing across his lips, and said, “It’s a surprise.” 

She pouted, crossing her arms, even though her heart did something stupid at those words. “What if I don’t want it to be a surprise?” 

His smile just grew as he said, “You’re just going to have to suck it up.” 

She looked at him, mouth popping open. Since when did _Damian_ say things like that? He just… didn’t. Sure, he teased her and made fun of her, but telling her to suck it up? She didn’t think she’d ever heard him say something even remotely like it. He’d always just told her to wait, or be patient, not to _suck it up_. 

But as she looked at him, that smile playing across his lips, she decided that she liked this side of him. 

That didn’t mean she was going to suck it up. 

“What if I guess?” she asked, poking his arm. “Will you tell me if I get it right?” 

“Sure,” he said, taking a turn towards downtown. “Go for it, Tess.” 

She frowned. He’d said it so… nonchalantly. Like it didn’t matter if she guessed or not. Poking his arm again she said, “You don’t think I can guess it.” 

“You can’t,” Damian said, not even bothering to look at her. “You can still guess, though, if it’ll make you feel better.” 

She should feel angry. She should be mad at him for thinking that she couldn’t guess, but all she could feel was some sort of giddy excitement. It was ridiculous. 

“I will,” she said, trying to force the smile off her face. It didn’t work. “Are we going ice-skating?” 

“No.” 

“Movie?” 

“Nope.” 

“Dinner?” 

“I hope so, since I’m hungry.” 

She glared at him. “You said you’d tell me if I guessed right.” 

He glanced at her. “Dinner’s a broad term, Tess.” 

She just kept glaring. 

Huffing a laugh, he said, “Yes, we will be eating dinner.” 

“Thank you,” she said. “Is it at a restaurant?” 

“Not really.” 

She frowned. What did that mean? _Not really_. How was it not really at a restaurant? It either was, or it wasn’t. You couldn’t be half at a restaurant. That wasn’t a thing. 

Damian had that same, stupid smirk on his face though. Asking wouldn’t do anything. He’d just keep giving stupid responses that didn’t make any sense. She might as well just stop. He wasn’t going to tell her anything. 

Still, she couldn’t help but grumble, “You know, if this isn’t the best first date ever I’m making you redo it.” 

Damian laughed, the sound bright, and kept driving. 

She loved his laugh. Loved the sound of it. When they’d first met, he’d barely ever smiled, let alone laughed. She still couldn’t quite believe that she got to hear him laugh. To see him smile. To be able to see this side of him that she hadn’t even known existed. 

Without thinking she laced her hand through his, letting it rest between them. Damian squeezed her fingers gently and pulled into downtown. 

She looked out the window, watching the skyscrapers pass by in glowing blurs. She loved Gotham at night. It was so… beautiful. With the glass and metal of the buildings, the light flickering over them, the cars driving down the street, the people walking the streets, the gothic architecture, the light dusting of snow on the pavement, Gotham was beautiful. 

This was the part that people didn’t see. The part that made her love this city, despite the crime that ran rampant here. 

Damian took another turn, and Wayne Tower lit up the skyline. They drew closer to it, until Damian turned into the building and drove to the top part of the parking lot. Then parked the car, stepping out of it. 

She frowned as he opened her door, helping her out, and said, “If you’re making me help you with paperwork, I’m going to break up with you.” 

Damian huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I promise we’re not doing paperwork.” 

“Good.” 

Rolling his eyes, Damian took her hand and led her to the elevator. She watched him press the top floor, and then they were riding up to the top of the building in silence. He didn’t let go of her hand. She didn’t let go of his. 

The door pinged open, and she expected for whatever they were doing here to be right in front of them, but she found nothing but an empty hallway. She looked at Damian, but he simply tugged her to the right to the stairs that led to the roof. 

Her eyebrows knit together, even as a smile spread across her lips. They were going to the roof. Whatever he had planned, it was on the roof. 

They entered the stairwell and she followed after him until they reached the door that led to the roof and whatever waited beyond. 

Her stomach fluttered as Damian turned towards her and said, “Close your eyes.” 

She stared at him and said, “No.” 

“Tess.” 

“I’m going to fall.” 

“Do you think I would let you?” 

She looked at him. And then she closed her eyes. 

She heard him open the door, and a cold blast of wind blew past them, making her shiver. Then Damian gently pulled her onto the roof, guiding her to somewhere where she could see the lights even with her eyes closed and felt heat coming from something. 

Then he stopped her, his hands on her shoulders, and said, “Open your eyes.” 

She didn’t know where to look first. 

To the table set up in the middle, a white tablecloth and beautiful plates resting atop it with a bouquet of flowers and candles dotting it. And besides it, on a second table covered with more flowers and candles, were trays and trays of food. Her favorite food. All the food she’d said she’d loved when she came over for dinner. 

To the trellises set up around it, with string lights climbing up like vines and hanging above their heads, the warm glow bathing them in light. They were everywhere, on two sides of the table creating a wall that glowed behind where they sat and letting the skyline of the city be their other backdrop. 

To the flowers and candles that just lay on the roof, a circle around them separating them from the rest of the world. Her favorite flower. More lilies. The same as the ones on the table. With purple and cream candles, her favorite colors. 

There was color and light everywhere, and for a long moment all she could do was stare at it, tears blurring her vision. 

She turned to Damian. His lips twitched up in half a smile – nervous, he was nervous – before he said, “What do you think?” 

What did she think? That it was everything she could have dreamed of. Better. That this was beyond perfect and she didn’t have any words to describe it. 

So instead of trying to, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He stumbled forward half a step, his hands going to her waist, and then he was kissing her back, slow and sweet. 

When they pulled apart, he breathed, “I’m assuming that means you like it, then.” 

She nodded, eyes still closed. “I do. I really do.” 

“Come on,” he said, pulling away farther and directing her over to the table. “We should eat before the food gets cold.” 

She nodded, letting him guide her, because she still couldn’t process what was happening. What he’d done. It was just… it was beautiful. And thoughtful. And it spoke louder than any words that he knew her, because he’d made something that she would love. 

Damian grabbed two plates, setting them on the table and then slipping into the seat across from her. Then he held up his glass, tipping it towards her. Laughing, she clinked her glass against his, relishing in the ringing sound, and took a sip of the water. 

And then she dug into the food, not even bothering to wait, because it was Alfred’s cooking and she wasn’t going to wait a moment longer to eat. Damian snorted, a smile playing on his lips, and took a much smaller, much more proper bite of food. 

“You know, it’s not going to run away,” Damian said, spearing a green bean. 

“It tastes better this way,” she said, and then shoved her fork into her mouth. 

Damian snorted. “I’m sure it does.” 

When she’d inhaled half her plate, she finally asked, “How did you set all this up? I just…” 

She couldn’t even finish. She just looked around again, a surge of pure happiness shooting through her veins. 

“The other’s helped,” Damian said, then frowned. “Or, at least, they tried to.” 

It was her turn to snort. “I’m sure that ended fantastically.” 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Damian said, cutting the eggplant on his plate. “It’s not like Cass and Jason were the only productive ones or anything.” 

Tessa breathed a laugh, then said around her bite of food, “Do tell.” 

Damian rolled his eyes but said, “Tim and Steph were distracting each other the entire time and arguing, so we gave them the job of untangling the lights and put them in a corner. Dick was too emotional and happy that this–” He waved his hand at their surroundings “–was happening that he wasn’t any help. Babs did her best to help, but she, unfortunately, doesn’t have the best eye for these kinds of things, so it was mostly Cass and Jason setting everything up.” 

She could see all of that, though she felt her eyes widen at the fact that Jason was actually helpful. She didn’t peg him for the type of person who was good at this kind of stuff, but then again that whole bad-boy act he tried to put on wasn’t all the believable, so it was totally possible for him to be good at this kind of stuff. 

“And what about you?” she asked, glancing around at everything. “What did you set up?” 

Damian shrugged. “I just helped where it was needed. It was my idea, but I’m not… I’m not good at this kind of stuff. Jason was the one who had the eye for it, we were all basically his slaves for the afternoon, something that amused him endlessly.” 

She stifled a laugh. She could practically see the glee on Jason’s face. 

After dinner they ended up curled into a pile of blankets she’d completely missed against a wall, cups of hot chocolate in their hands and looking over the city and up at the stars. She’d snuggled into his side, something that her tired brain hadn’t registered as embarrassing until _after_ she’d done it, and only after fumbling over her words for a solid ten seconds did Damian kiss her and drape an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer. 

She didn’t know how long they stayed there, wrapped up in blankets and each other as they looked up at the stars, but if she could have chosen, she would never leave. She would just live in this moment forever, and endless night of talking and food and blankets and stars, stretching out for the rest of eternity. 

She snuggled into Damian further, wrapping her arms around his waist. He adjusted, placing a kiss on top of her head before leaning his back against her own. 

Yeah, she could definitely stay here forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween guys! To everyone going out tonight, please, please, please be safe. Don't do anything overly stupid, just kinda stupid, alright? 
> 
> Sooooooo real talk. I'm doing NaNoWriMo, which for those of you who don't know is when you try to write 50K words in the month of November, and it's this giant ass project where you basically die a little bit each day. I'm super excited to do it because I've had this idea floating around in my head for a while, but that means that I won't be able to update this story twice a week. I tried to get on top of this before November came, but I didn't, so from now on UPDATES WILL ONLY BE ON WEDNESDAYS.
> 
> After November is over it should go back to the two-day a week update schedule, so bear with me guys. I promise I'm not giving up on this story I'm just not going to be prioritizing it this month.
> 
> Well, that's it. As always talk to me in the comments or message me on [Tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/) :)


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a little mishap with a gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE READ PLEASE READ PLEASE READ**
> 
>  
> 
> Hey! So, I REWROTE this chapter. The first part will look familiar, but the second half is completely new, so DON'T SKIP.

Damian leaned forward, grabbing the popcorn bowl off the coffee table. 

Beside him Tessa grumbled, hitting his chest. “I was comfortable.” 

He slung his arm back over her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. “You know I’m not a pillow, right?” 

She poked his stomach. “Yeah, you’re not nearly as squishy.” 

“Some would think that’s a good thing,” Damian said, poking her cheek. 

Tessa grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it into her mouth. 

He breathed a laugh, leaning his head against the top of hers. 

Tessa scrunched up her face but didn’t say anything. She just looked back at the TV where the godawful horror film she’d chosen was playing, shifting slightly against his chest. 

He tried not to roll his eyes at it. Really, he did, but the movie made little sense and the characters were incredibly dull and idiotic. He would have taken down the person with the hardly frightening mask trying to murder them a dozen times over by now, and they were only halfway through the movie. 

Quite honestly, he didn’t really see the appeal of it. Sure, he understood that people liked to feel the rush of adrenaline and endorphins that they get when watching these ridiculous movies, but that only worked when they got sca– 

Tessa screamed, jumping so hard that the bowl of popcorn went flying out of his hands. 

Damian felt his entire body tense at the sound, his eyes automatically scanning the room for threats. Window closed. Door still cracked. No movement in the shadows. No one hiding behind the desk. Nothing was out of place. 

His hand tightened on the hidden blade strapped to his leg. Where was it? She wouldn’t just scream for no re– 

He sighed through his nose, his entire body relaxing as he turned and glared at Tessa. Only she wasn’t looking at him, hadn’t even noticed his entire body shift because her eyes were glued to the screen as the masked man murdered one of the characters. 

He grabbed a handful of the popcorn that was now scattered across the couch and threw it at her head. 

She looked at him, grabbing popcorn and throwing it right back. “What?” 

“Scaredy-cat,” he said, a half-smile on his face even as he felt it shake ever-so-slightly. 

She pressed her lips together, rolling her eyes. “Sorry I’m not as brave as Batman or whatever.” 

Damian snorted. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Damian said, grabbing one of the few remaining pieces of popcorn in the bowl and tossing it in his mouth. 

Tessa looked at him sideways but didn’t say anything, instead leaning back against his chest. 

It was better that she did that. If she’d asked why he’d found it so funny that she called Batman _brave_ he would have had to come up with a lie, and that would have taken the fun out of the situation. Not that lying to Tessa about his night-life was fun, but when things like that happened, it was certainly amu– 

Down the hall, the front door slammed shut. Tessa flinched, her eyes going wide as she half turned, only to frown and roll her eyes before settling back into place. He pressed his lips together, smiling at the top of her head. 

Someone was home – or, not home, since everyone but him had moved out, but it was one of his siblings. Probably Jason. Dick would slam doors but only when he was especially angry, and usually only the front door if he was storming out. Tim didn’t slam doors. Neither did Cass. It could be Steph, but he doubted it; it sounded like someone was coming in, not out, and she rarely came into the Manor angry. 

Feet thudded against the ground, muffled cursing getting louder and louder with each stomp. Damian forced down the sigh that rose in his chest. Jason, then. And, apparently, he wasn’t happy. Wonderful. He couldn’t wait for whatever argument was going to happen tonight. 

Actually, that meant he had to get Tessa home before dinner. There was no way it wasn’t going to blow up then, even if she was there, and there was no way he was putting her in the middle of one of Jason and Bruce’s fights. Especially when they wouldn’t be able to keep their mouths shut and say something they shouldn’t around her. 

The door slammed open, the handle banging against the door as light flooded into the room. 

“Hey, demon brat, turn the volume down,” Jason growled. “I can hear it from the other end of the hall.” 

“If you don’t want to hear it, go somewhere else,” Damian said, not even turning around to look at him. 

He heard Tessa snort softly into his chest. 

“Turn. It. Down,” Jason growled. 

“No.” 

“Last warning, brat, turn it down.” 

He just flipped him off over the back of the couch. 

“That’s how you want to play? Fine.” 

The sound of a zipper filled the room, then the sound of Jason reaching for something inside his jacket. 

Damian froze. Todd couldn’t be that– 

The metallic click of a gun being cocked echoed in his ears. 

Damian half-turned, the word _stop_ on the tip of his tongue. Not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough to stop Todd from pulling the trigger and the deafening bang of the gun to fill the room. 

The TV shattered. 

Tessa screamed. 

He saw Jason freeze. Saw his eyes widen and lock onto the top of the couch, where if he had taken a goddamn _second_ to look he would have seen the top of Tessa’s head. 

Tessa, who was shaking, her hands balled in the material of his shirt so tight that her knuckles were white. 

“What the hell, Todd?” Damian screamed. Gently, he ran a hand up and down Tessa’s back. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Jason hissed, shoving a hand through his hair. He looked at Damian. “I didn’t–” 

“You can’t just do shit like that,” Damian growled. “What if your aim had been off?” _What if you’d accidentally hit Tessa?_

“They’re rubber bullets,” Jason said. As if that changed everything. 

“Still deadly if they hit the wrong spot,” Damian shot back. 

He felt Tessa’s hand loosen in his shirt. His eyes snapped to her. Slightly pale, still a little shaky, but her eyes weren’t glassy. They were clear as day as she pushed herself into a sitting position and looked at Jason. 

Shit. 

For a long moment, Tessa just stared at Jason, her eyes slowly looking him over. It was only when she finally got to the gun held loosely in his hand that her eyebrows twitched together. _Shit_. That’s what she looked like when she was trying to solve a puzzle. 

Gently, Damian laid a hand on her shoulder and asked, “You alright, Tess?” 

She blinked, her head turning towards him. “Yeah,” she said, smiling slightly. “Yeah, I’m good. I just… I’m good.” 

He tried not to frown. “You sure?” 

“I’m sure,” she said, looking back at the gun in Jason’s hand. 

Damian looked to his brother, but Jason just shook his head and moved his eyes to point at Tess. 

He pressed his lips together. _You’re the one who made her like this, fix it._

Jason gave him a flat look. _You’re the one dating her._

He glared. _You’re the idiot who fired the gun._

“I’m fine, really,” Tessa said. Both of their heads snapped towards her. She smiled slightly, looking between the two of them. “It’s cute how worried the two of you are, though.” 

“It’s not unwarranted.” 

“I’m really sorry, Tessa. I honestly didn’t know you were there.” 

“It’s alright,” she said, standing up and walking around to Jason with her arms crossed. “You can make it up to me by teaching me how to shoot.” 

Damian’s jaw popped open. 

Jason grinned manically. “Hell yeah.” 

“Hell _no_ ,” Damian said, glaring at Todd. “You’re not teaching her how to shoot.” 

Tessa turned to face him. “You can’t tell me what to do.” 

“Yes, I can,” Damian said, meeting her stare. 

Tessa raised an eyebrow, lips pressed together. 

Damian huffed. “Fine. I can’t. But you’re not learning how to shoot a gun.” 

“Why not?” she asked, jutting out her chin. “It’s a useful skill.” 

“Yeah, tater-tot, it’s a useful skill.” 

“Don’t encourage her, Todd.” 

“It _is_ a useful skill.” 

“It’s a _dangerous_ skill.” 

“Jason uses it.” 

“Jason’s an idiot.” 

“Hey.” Jason crossed his arms. “Just because you don’t use guns doesn’t mean Tessa can’t. If she wants to learn how to shoot, I’d be more than happy to teach her.” 

“Yeah,” Tessa said, gesturing towards Jason. 

“ _No_ ,” Damian ground out. “You’re not teaching her.” 

“You can’t tell her what to do,” Jason said. “And you can’t tell me what to do. What are you going to do to stop us?” 

Tessa looked at him, a smug smile on her face. 

Damian glared at her, then turned it on Jason and said, “I’ll tell Bruce.” 

Jason snorted. “Like Bruce has any control over what I do.” 

“I’ll tell Alfred.” 

Jason rolled his eyes. “Alfred knows how to use a gun. He’d most likely approve of me teaching Tessa.” 

Damian’s teeth ground together. He opened his mouth to protest – to say _something_ that would get Tessa to drop this, because Jason teaching Tessa how to use a gun would only end badly for everyone – when Dick and Tim rushed into the room, escrima sticks and Bo-staff in hand. 

It took everything inside him not to slam his palm into his forehead. 

Dick looked around the room, ready for a fight, but as soon as his eyes landed on Tessa the concentration was replaced with a sheepish smile. 

Waving awkwardly with the escrima stick still in his hand, Dick said, “Hey, Tessa.” 

Tessa looked between the four of them, a smile he didn’t even want to name on her face. Whatever that look was, he didn’t like it. He had a bad feeling that it would only end badly for him. Or that she knew something she shouldn’t. 

Tessa flicked her eyes between Dick and Tim, then asked, “Can you teach me how to use those too?” 

“ _No._ ” 

\---------------------------------- 

“You have to promise not to tell him.” 

“I’m not that dumb, Jason,” Tessa said, looking at him from the passenger seat of the black truck that he’d picked her up in ten minutes ago. 

“He’s good at spotting lies,” he said, glancing at her. “And after Friday he’ll expect this. It’ll take a lot more to keep him from finding out than normal.” 

She smiled blandly at him. “Then it’s a good thing I’m an amazing liar.” 

Jason snorted. “I don’t think you get how good my family is at picking out lies.” 

It was her turn to snort. “Then why’d it take all of you so long to figure out what was happening with my dad?” 

Jason opened his mouth to respond. Closed it. Opened it again. 

She just raised an eyebrow. She would _love_ to hear whatever bullshit reason he was going to come up with. 

He just cleared his throat and said, “Fair point.” 

“Uh-huh,” she said, smiling as she looked out the window. 

Jason laughed, pulling into the parking lot. “You know, Tess, I think you’ll be able to handle us just fine.” 

Her smile stretched, so wide it hurt. 

A good pain. A pain she’d take again and again because it meant she was _happy_. Truly, entirely happy, and it was such a strange, wonderful feeling that she never wanted to stop feeling it ever again. 

“Alright,” Jason said, putting the car in park. He faced her, a grin splitting his face. “Ready to shoot some guns?” 

She grinned back. “Hell yeah.” 

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said, holding up his hand for a high-five. 

She slapped his hand so hard she could still feel it tingling when they walked into the shooting range. 

Jason paid for a lane and walked over with the small handgun and two pairs of goggles that he picked up from the counter. He handed her one. “Put them on and don’t take them off, okay?” 

“Okay,” she said, taking them and slipping them onto her face. 

“So, when you’re using a firearm, the most important thing is safety,” Jason said, holding the gun before her in the palm of her hand. “I know my shooting the TV is very hypocritical in this situation, but please do as I say and not as I do in this situation.” 

“I promise I won’t shoot any TVs.” 

“Good,” he said. “Now, do you know what the safety is?” 

“It’s the thing that you put on so the gun won’t fire and you won’t shoot yourself when you’re carrying it around.” 

“Correct. Do you know where it is?” 

“No.” 

“Here,” Jason said, point to a small little switch right above the trigger. “It’s different on every gun, but for the most part, they’ll look something like this. You need to make sure it’s always on unless you’re specifically trying to shoot something, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“A few ground rules,” Jason said. “First, don’t point a gun at someone, even if it’s a joke. The only time you should ever point a gun at someone is if you’re in danger. Second, always treat the gun as if it’s loaded, even if you’re 100 percent sure it’s not. It’s good safety practice and can also save your life if all you have is an empty gun. Third, you have to be aware of what’s behind your target. If you’re in a situation where you do need to shoot something and you miss, you have to know what you might hit and if it’s worth the risk of firing. Fourth, keep your finger off the trigger until you’re fully ready to shoot. It’ll lessen the likelihood of misfires. 

“Fifth, if I ever see you doing one of those side-shot, trick-whatever bullshit that you see in movies, I’ll tell Damian what we’re doing.” 

A strangled noise slipped out of her throat. He was going to tell Damian? If she did a trick shot? Not if she did break any of the other, more-important sounding rules? 

“I’m serious, it’s bullshit,” he said. “You’re more likely to hurt yourself if you do stupid shit like that than you are to get within a foot of your target.” 

“Alright,” Tessa said, nodding her head. “I promise.” 

“Then let’s get started,” Jason said. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a rectangular box, and held it up. “This is a magazine. They’re used to hold bullets for these types of guns. There’s also loose bullets if you’re using rifles or revolvers, and clips if you need a shit ton of bullets, but for now we’re going to focus on this little piece right here. What’s it called?” 

“A magazine.” 

“How many bullets do you think it holds?” 

“Eight?” 

“Six.” He lowered it, rotating the gun in his right hand so that it was pointed down-range towards the ground. “They come in different sizes, but the average is six. Now, this magazine is already loaded so there’s no need to open it and insert the bullets. 

“All you have to do is hold the grip with your dominant hand–” He wrapped his right hand around the bottom part of the gun. “–then take the magazine in your non-dominant hand and push it into the hand-grip until you hear it click–” He shoved the magazine into the grip, slamming it in at the very end with the palm of his hand until the little click sounded. “And that’s it. The gun’s loaded.” 

“That’s it?” 

“That’s it,” he said, raising the gun and aiming down-range. “Simple, huh?” 

“Yeah,” she said. She could totally do that. 

“Glad you think so,” Jason said, lowering the gun. “When you want to take the magazine out to reload, you press this little button here.” He pressed it, and the magazine slipped out of the grip. “Got it?” 

“Got it.” 

“Do it ten times.” 

Her mouth popped open. She hadn’t come here to… to learn how to put a magazine into a gun. Well, yeah, technically she did, but she came here to learn how to _shoot_. She could learn this after that. 

“Ten times, Tess, or I’m not showing you anything else.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him but took the gun and magazine from him. They were lighter than she’d thought they’d be. Stepping in front of him, she pointed it slightly down-range like he had done, and inserted the magazine into the grip. 

Or tried. It got stuck halfway through, and no matter how hard she slammed it into the palm of her hand, she couldn’t get it to go in any further. 

“Need some help?” 

She glared at him over her shoulder. 

Jason chuckled, stepping forward and taking the gun from her hand. In an easy motion he popped the magazine into the grip, and a second later it was back in his hand. 

“It’s all about practice,” he said, handing them back to her. “You want to have smooth, precise motions, or it’s going to get stuck. Try again.” 

She did. It was still sloppy, and it stuck a little bit, but she got it in this time. She grinned triumphantly at Jason. 

“Good,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Now do it nine more times.” 

She groaned. Then did it nine more times. 

It got easier. By the tenth it was more jerky than sticky, so that was an improvement. 

“That’s good,” he said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out another magazine. “Now insert the one with actual bullets and I’ll teach you how to shoot.” 

She stared at him. Looked at the gun in her hands. The magazine held in his. “What’s in this one?” 

“Shells,” he said. “Now pop it out so we can shoot.” 

She did, handing him the empty magazine and taking the new one. Once it was clicked into place, she shook her head and said, “You know you suck, right?” 

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely the worst.” He grinned at her. “Now, when you shoot, you want to hold the grip in your dominant hand – for you, that’s your right – and use your other hand to cup the base so you have more stability.” 

She did, raising the gun with her right hand and cupping the grip with her left. 

“Bend your arms and relax your shoulders,” he said, tapping her shoulder with two fingers. “If you’re tense, your aim’s going to be off. Better. Now raise the gun a little higher, so it’s at eye level, and pick your target.” 

She looked down range, locking her eyes on the center of the target. “Okay.” 

“Remember where the safety is?” 

She nodded. 

“Flip it off, then put your finger on the trigger, but don’t squeeze it.” 

She did, the metal of the trigger slightly cold against her finger. 

“There will be a slight kick-back from the gun, so you’ll need to realign your shot each time,” he said, placing a pair of giant earmuff-headphones over her ears. “Have at it.” “

That’s it?” she asked, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. “You’re not going to give me any more help?” 

“Nope,” he said. She could hear the grin in his voice. “I need to see how you shoot first.” 

“Alright,” she breathed. 

Then she raised the gun, lined up her shot, and pulled the trigger. 

She nearly screamed because of the kickback. 

It jolted through her hand, throwing the gun towards her face. Her first instinct was to drop it. It was only the thought of the gun randomly going off as it hit the ground that kept her from doing so. 

Behind her, she heard Jason laugh. When her heart stopped pounding in her chest, she turned around and glared at him. “Like you did better your first time.” 

“Try again, cupcake.” 

She flipped him off but lined up her next shot. Bracing herself, she squeezed the trigger. 

She didn’t flinch that time. She also didn’t hit the target. 

“You’re too tense,” Jason said. “Relax your shoulders and loosen your grip just a bit.” 

“If I do that, the kickback will be worse.” 

“If you don’t, you’ll keep missing the target.” 

Tessa huffed. Stupid logic making stupid sense. Letting out a deep breath she relaxed her shoulders, lined up her shot, and squeezed the trigger. 

She grinned when it hit the target. 

Well, technically it didn’t hit the _target_ , but it hit the paper surrounding the target, and that counted for something. It was better than missing completely, anyway. 

“You’re aiming too low,” Jason said. “Since you’re short you have to aim a little up instead of level if you want to hit the center.” 

She glared at him. She wasn’t short. She was average height. Sure, compared to him and his six-feet-whatever height she was short, but compared to normal people she wasn’t short. It was just his family with some weird genetic gene that made everyone ridiculous tall. 

Wait. No. That’s wrong. They’re all adopted. She glared more. How the hell did Bruce Wayne manage to pick children that would all look like him? It was ridiculous. 

“Stop glaring and shoot.” 

She glared for a second longer, just because she could, before turning back to the target, and took the last three shots one after another. 

They hit the target. Not well, but they hit. And it was slightly better now that she was aiming up ever so slightly. 

“Good,” Jason said. “Now pop the magazine out and we’ll do it all over again.” 

They spent the next hour shooting, and by the end of it, she could hit the target regularly and could hit where she wanted to semi-regularly. She walked out grinning, Jason shaking his head beside her. Apparently, she did better than he expected. Not that he should have expected any less. She was amazing, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Hi. Been a while, hasn't it? Like an entire month? Yeah, I know, I suck.
> 
> But! Here's the chapter. I rewrote it because someone in the comments called me out on not doing my best work, and they were 100% right, so I rewrote this and made them my beta reader so they can tell me when I'm being stupid more often, so say thank you to Mystik_Owl for this chapter. 
> 
> As you can see I focused it on Jason and shooting, but the other parts will be worked into the upcoming chapters, it's just going to be more gradual instead of all at once and it'll hopefully make everything flow better and allow me to but story into the short little filler scenes I wrote in this original chapter.
> 
> ANYWAY... if you didn't read the note at the top, please re-read this chapter. I promise you won't regret it. There's some great Jason/Tessa bonding time in there that I had a ton of fun writing.
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments or feel free to send me an ask/chat with me on my [ tumblr ](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/)


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa learns some hand-to-hand combat

She hit the floor. Again. She was pretty sure that at this point there was a bruise forming on her butt. Her _butt_. How the hell does a bruise even form there? It’s all cushion. It’s shouldn’t be possible. She shouldn’t be getting a goddamn bruise on her butt, yet here she was. 

“Come on. Again.” 

She half glared at Damian as she stood up. “You know, if you actually showed me how to fight instead of continuously knocking me on my ass, I might actually learn something.” 

“If you learn how to fight in a controlled setting, you won’t know what to do in an uncontrolled one.” He raised his fists, getting into the position that he showed her in the beginning. “Ready.” 

“Dami, you might want to rethink your teaching style a bit,” Dick said from where he sat on the side with the rest of his siblings. 

Tessa slouched, looking over and mouthing _thank you_. At least someone got it. 

“My teaching style is flawless,” he said, spinning to face Dick. “If she wants to learn how to fight, she’s going to do it the right way.” 

“I know that, but Damian, you should really show her the proper forms before you move into sparring,” Dick said. 

“I have shown her,” Damian said. “We went over it at the beginning.” 

“Yeah, but most people can’t memorize forms with only someone showing them how to do it,” Dick said. “She needs to practice them until she gets them before she can move into learning how to apply them.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Damian said, and spun to face her. “You remember the forms, correct?” 

She opened her mouth. Closed it. What the hell was she supposed to say? No, she didn’t remember the forms, but if she said that she was pretty sure Damian was going to bite her head off. She looked at Dick. 

Damian made a noise in the back of his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me you forgot the forms.” 

“She didn’t forget them, short-stack, she never learned them,” Jason called. 

“Shut up, Todd.” 

“I didn’t tell you cause you kinda get into this whole super-focused mode when you’re teaching, and I don’t really want to interrupt you.” 

“If you don’t like my teaching style–” 

“I didn’t _say_ that–” 

“–then someone else can teach you,” he said, shrugging. The movement was more of a jerk. “It really doesn’t matter to me. I’ll just supervise and make sure they’re doing it correctly.” 

“Dami–” 

“It’s fine, Tessa, really,” he said. She tried not to groan. He was so obviously bothered by this, it was ridiculous. “I suggest Grayson, though Cain would also be an acceptable teacher.” 

“Damian, stop. I want you to teach me, it’s just that–” 

“You don’t like my teaching style so–” 

“Will you stop interrupting me? I’m trying to tell you–” 

“I’m the one interrupting you? I believe it was you who started thi–” 

“We’re going to play the blame game now? Really? Fine. The only reason I stopped midway was because I wasn’t learning anythi–” 

“Because you weren’t applying yourself–” 

“Because you weren’t teaching me anything! I was just being knocked on my ass–” 

“It’s not my fault you cannot keep your feet under yourse–” 

“Actually, it is, because you’re the goddamn teacher–” 

“So, everything’s my fault?” 

“Yes! At least when Jason’s teaching me how to shoot, he actually _teaches_ me inste–” 

She cut herself off, eyes flying wide. 

Jason made a strangled sound. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_. She didn’t just say that. There was no way that she just fucking said that like some goddamn idiot who let their temper get the better than them and blurt out stupid shit that other people weren’t supposed to know– 

“What?” 

She looked up at Damian. Fine. Fine, if she was going to blurt out stupid shit, she was going to at least hold her ground. She had every right to do this. It wasn’t his decision. 

“When Jason’s teaching me how to shoot,” she repeated slowly, staring him in the eye, “he’s a much a better teacher than you since he actually teaches me how to do it.” 

To her right, Jason let a _whoop_. Tessa looked at him to find him grinning. She smiled back. 

Damian wasn’t smiling. 

He rounded on Jason, murder in his eyes. “You’re teaching her how to use a gun?” 

“Damn straight I am,” Jason said, sitting up straight. “Got a problem with it?” 

“Yes, _Todd_ , I do,” Damian said. “How long?” 

“Only a week.” 

“A week?” Damian hissed. “I thought we already went over why I didn’t want Tessa using a gun.” 

“Actually,” she said, stepping halfway into his line of sight, “the only thing we went over was how you didn’t want me to learn. You never gave a reason other than ‘it’s dangerous’, which is a bullshit reason.” 

“It _is_ dangerous.” 

“We live in Gotham, Damian. The entire city is dangerous. Learning how to use a gun when I’m going to come across one more than once in my life will actually make me _safer_.” 

Damian’s face twisted in a snarl. “No one’s going to get near you with a gun.” 

Her face softened. Stepping closer to him, she said, “You don’t get to decide that, Dami. Isn’t it better that I know how to use one than to get into a situation with them and have no idea how they work?” 

He met her eyes. She knew she won as soon as his jaw tightened. 

Glaring, Damian looked past her shoulder at Jason and said, “Make her better than anyone out there.” 

“You’re giving in?” Tim shouted, looking between Tessa and Damian. 

“I’m not _giving in_ ,” Damian growled. 

“You are, little brother,” Cass said, grinning. “It is okay. About time someone can talk sense into you.” 

“I’m not giving in, I’m seeing I was wrong,” he said, crossing his arms. 

Tessa muffled a snort 

“Did he just admit he was wrong?” Tim asked, looking at everyone in the room. “Please tell me I wasn’t the only one who heard that. Damian did just say he was wrong, right? Right?” 

Damian's hand balled into a fist. Tessa sent a half-glare at Tim before taking Damian’s hand and unballing it, lacing her fingers through his own. 

Dick slapped the back of Tim’s head. “Knock it off. Don’t ruin the moment.” 

“There is no moment,” Damian said, his hand tightening. She squeezed his hand. “I’m allowed to recognize my mistakes.” 

“Yeah, but you don’t,” Tim said, rubbing the back of his head. “Are sure you’re Damian? Maybe he’s a clone. It’s not like we haven’t dealt with one before.” 

Tessa’s head snapped towards him. “What?” 

They’d dealt with a clone? What did that mean? Yeah, it was Gotham, but why the hell would _they_ have to deal with a clone? Was it some sort of weird inside joke? 

Tessa looked around, but everyone was glaring at Tim. Tim, who was hunching in on himself and smiling sheepishly at the rest of them. 

Were they… they couldn’t be… there was no way he was serious. 

“Please tell me he’s joking.” 

They all looked at her, then around at each other. They were having one of those weird silent Wayne-sibling conversations. She still didn’t know how they were able to do that. It was insane. How the hell did you have a full-fledged silent conversation with multiple people? 

But if they were having a silent conversation about this, that meant… 

“One of you guys got replaced with a clone? What the fuck?” 

“It was one time–” Jason started. 

“Shhhhh,” Dick said, slapping a hand over Jason’s mouth. 

Tessa stared at them. “No. No, don’t ‘shhhh’, tell me about this clone.” 

Damian said, “It’s not important–” 

“I strongly disagree because _it’s a fucking clone._ ” 

“Tess, really, it’s no–” 

“Can I offer any of you something to drink?” 

All their heads snapped to Alfred. She bit her cheek to keep from glaring at the relief on all their faces. If they thought all it would take for her to drop it was Alfred coming in, then they were sorely mistaken. 

“I’m good,” she said, smiling sweetly at Alfred. 

The rest of them replied the same, and with a wary glance around the room, Alfred walked out. 

She turned her smile on the rest of them, making it sickly sweet. 

Damian, at least, had the decency to cringe. 

“Clone?” 

“Tessa, please–” 

“ _Clone?_ ” 

“Seriously, it wasn’t exciting–” 

“Tessa, we’re billionaires,” Tim cut in. “Is it really surprising that someone would clone then replace one of us in some demented plan?” 

“Yes, Tim, it is,” she said. “Besides, that doesn’t explain anything about how or why it happe–” 

“Are we not training?” Cass said, standing up. “I thought we were training.” 

Tessa looked at Cass, ready to protest, but stopped at the look on her face. It was a small, barely there warning. A command to stop. And only because she liked Cass – and was maybe just a tad bit terrified of her – she rolled her shoulders and walked back into the center of the mat. 

Glaring at the boys, she said, “We’re not done with this.” 

“Later,” Cass said, stepping onto the matt with her after shoving Damian towards the chairs. 

“Yes, later,” she said, smiling at her… friend. Yes, friend sounded right. “Are you teaching me now?” 

“Yes,” she said, raising her fists. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the rest of the glaring at Tim. He was shrinking into his seat, looking like he wanted to disappear. 

“Alright,” Tessa said, trying to mirror her pose. “Can you teach me how to kick Damian’s ass?” 

Damian huffed off to the side. 

Cass just smirked. “Yes.” 

Her brown eyes flashed as they met Tessa’s. She couldn’t help it – she grinned back, that strange, secret grin that they seemed to share whenever it came to the Wayne men. 

And then Cass started teaching her how to fight. 

\------------------------------------- 

Two days later, and she was still ridiculously sore. 

It was honestly ridiculous. Well, not ridiculous, since both Damian and Cass had kicked her ass thoroughly, but still. It shouldn’t hurt this much. She expected the bruises to hurt, but not her muscles. Her muscles _hurt_. She was practically hobbling around everywhere. And stairs? Stairs were death. She wanted to cry every time she had to walk up or down the stairs. 

“Want some help?” Damian asked, lips pressed together and eyebrow raised. 

“Screw you, Wayne,” she hissed, using the railing as she walked down the stairs. 

“We’re going to be late.” 

“You’re exaggerating.” 

“If you go at this pace the entire time we will.” 

“It’s not my fault. You’re the one who did this.” 

Two girls walking past her gasped. 

“Say that any louder and you’re going to start a rumor you’re going to hate.” 

She flipped him off. 

She didn’t mean it like… like that. They’d barely started dating. They hadn’t done anything more than make-out, and while that was certainly fun, she didn’t have any want to take it farther than that at this point. She was happy taking it slow. _They_ were happy taking it slow. 

“You have been stretching, right?” Damian asked when she finally reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“Yes, Damian, I’ve been stretching,” she said, poking his chest as she walked past. “I do know how to exercise properly.” 

“Just making sure,” he said, falling into step beside her. “Luckily, we only have one more class, so you won’t have to deal with stairs for too much longer.” 

“Wrong,” she groaned. “I have to deal with stairs at home because my room’s on the second floor.” 

“Maybe you should install one of those lifts old people use,” he said. 

She snorted. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure my dad would love that.” 

Damian tensed beside her. 

She frowned, turning to face him fully. What was wrong? Was it something she sa–? 

Oh. 

“He hasn’t done anything,” she said softly, slipping her hand into Damian’s. 

Damian squeezed her hand gently. “I know. I just hate that you have to be in the same space as him.” “It’s only two more years,” she said. “Besides, I barely see him. He always stays out late and leaves 

early, so the only time I see him is in passing moments. He barely even talks to me anymore unless there’s a specific reason. It’s really not that bad.” 

She said the same words she told herself every time it got hard. Even though he hadn’t done anything, she could feel this weight every once in a while that made her want to curl into a ball and cry, and every time those were the words she said. The words she used to remind herself that this wasn’t forever, just a for now. 

“It shouldn’t be ‘not that bad’,” Damian said, jaw clenched. “That shouldn’t have to be the standard.” 

She forced a smile onto her face. “I know, but it is.” 

The bell rang, the sharp trill echoing through the empty hall. Sighing, Damian pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. Her smile turned soft as she breathed him in. 

Pulling away, she bumped her shoulder against his. “Come on. We don’t want to be too late.” 

She turned, pulling him down the hall after her, but he tugged on her hand gently. 

She faced him, raising an eyebrow. “Something wrong?” 

“Let’s ditch,” Damian said, stepping closer. “It’s not like we’ll miss out on anything.” 

“Damian–” 

“Come on,” he said, smiling. A real smile. Not one of those half smiles that he was so fond of, but a full one that stretched across his face. “Loosen up a bit, Tess.” 

She stared. “I’m sorry, did _you_ just tell _me_ to loosen up?” 

“Yes,” he said, tugging on her hand towards the exit. Rolling her eyes, she let him pull her. His grin stretched. 

“This better be worth an absence,” she said, unable to help the smile that was pulling at her lips. 

“It will be,” he said. 

Half an hour later they pulled up to an empty dock facing out into Gotham Harbor. Without a word, Damian got out of the car and walked out onto the pier, walking all the way to the edge and sitting down with his feet hanging over the water. 

Frowning, Tessa stepped out of the car and walked after him. A cold breeze blew by, making her shiver and pull her jacket tighter. Damian didn’t so much as twitch. He just kept gazing out into the harbor, his eyes half glazed. Like he was stuck more in a memory than in the present. 

She sat down next to him. For a long moment she just stared out into the harbor, Gotham’s skyline stretching out before them. It really was a beautiful sight. The dark steel and glass buildings reflected the sun onto the harbor, the sky blue for once, instead of the perpetual gray that seemed to cover Gotham. Almost like the city knew that they would be here. 

Gently she asked, “What are we doing here, Dami?” 

He looked at her, blinking. His eyes cleared, the sharp green that she’d come to adore meeting hers fully. Smiling softly, he pointed into the harbor with his chin. “Out there, that’s where I met Father for the first time.” 

She frowned. “On the harbor?” 

“Yeah,” Damian said, his eyes going back to the water. “When I was ten, Mother thought it’d be best if I spent some time getting to know my father, so we came here. She bought a yacht so there’d be a controlled environment, then sent a message to Father to bring him there, and I met him.” 

Tessa looked out at the harbor, trying to picture the yacht. His mother. He’d never talked about her before. She’d assumed she was out of the picture, but the way Damian was talking about her… maybe she wasn’t as gone as she had originally thought. 

Though it was weird. Why would Damian only meet Bruce when he was ten? And why did his mom decide then? Why would she just _leave him_ with Bruce out of the blue? Not that Bruce wasn’t a great parent, or at least a decent one, but it was weird. 

Though she probably shouldn’t be judging other’s moms too much, considering her own decided to leave her alone with her abusive dad and save herself. 

“This was the first view I ever saw of Gotham,” Damian said, his eyes drifting up to the skyline. “I hated it, that first time. I saw it, and missed the sand and the warmth that I’d grown up in. Everything about Gotham was– is the opposite of where I’d originally considered home.” 

“Do you ever want to go back?” 

The question echoed out over the water. 

Damian met her eyes. “Sometimes. Not because I miss the people or that life, but because I miss the place itself.” He dropped her gaze, instead looking down at his hands. “Mother is not… she is not a good person. Looking back on my childhood, I know it was not a good one, even if there are good moments that I find.” 

She slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. “Hey,” she said, tipping his chin up so their eyes met, “at least we have that in common.” 

Damian huffed a laugh but didn’t say anything. 

She didn’t either. She just leaned her head against her shoulder and breathed in the brine of the harbor, happy to sit in the silence if that’s what he needed. 

After a long moment, Damian asked, “You’re not going to ask me questions?” 

She sat up, looking at him. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready. At least now I know why you keep secrets.” 

His eyes widened a fraction, darting over her face. “You know I’ve been keeping secrets?” 

She half smiled. “Of course I know. You might be good at keeping them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t notice that you are.” 

It wasn’t that hard. His entire family was keeping secrets, the clone thing from two days ago just the tip of it. She didn’t know what it was, or why they all had their own secrets to keep, but they were there. If they all had as shitty childhoods as Damian did, though, she wasn’t surprised. You tend to learn to keep secrets if you grow up like that. 

Damian opened his mouth, most likely to explain, but she shook her head and said, “You don’t have to apologize, or explain, or whatever else you’re going to do. Just promise me that when you’re ready, whenever that is, you’ll tell me.” 

“I promise,” he said, leaning his head against hers. 

“Okay then,” she whispered, letting her eyes fall shut. 

Damian leaned forward, pressing his lips to her own. She smiled into the kiss. 

He might have secrets, but she did too. He might know more than anyone else about her past, but that didn’t mean he knew everything. And that was okay. She wasn’t quite ready to share the whole truth, just like he wasn’t. 

One day, they’d get there. Until then, they’d take it slow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Thought you guys deserved two chapters since you had to wait for so long, so here you go :)


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian struggles to make a decision

Friday’s had turned into movie nights, even with Todd nearly shooting Tessa in the head. Not that she was complaining. No, she was letting him teach her how to shoot because, apparently, that was the normal reaction to having someone shoot a gun at you. 

Not that Damian was bitter or anything. 

At the very least, she was getting better. According to Jason, she could regularly hit her target from 20 meters out. Farther than that and it got a little iffy, but for their third session she was making good progress. 

Sighing, Damian adjusted their backpacks on his shoulder as they walked up the drive. He’d promised her he wouldn’t complain. Out loud, at least. 

“Earth to Damian, can you please unlock the door before the pizza burns my fingers.” 

He blinked. Looking at Tessa, he found her head tilted to the side and an eyebrow raised. He smiled at her, pulling out his keys. “Sorry.” 

“Where were you?” she asked, shifting the extra-large pizza they’d picked up on the way home from school. 

She’d been asking that a lot lately. Not that she shouldn’t be. He’d been distracted. Distant. Between keeping his nighttime activities a secret, teaching her how to fight, checking up on her and Jason, and making sure her father was keeping his word, he’d been juggling about as much as he could handle. 

Then there was a mass breakout from Arkham last week that they were still trying to clean up. Luckily it was mostly the minor players that got out, but it’d been a mess. Was a mess. Some stupid, useless rogues were still missing, and while it should be easy to find them and put them back in their cells, they were somehow still off the map. 

Not that he could tell her any of that. 

“Thinking about the mountain of homework I have to do this weekend,” he said, unlocking the door and pushing it open. 

Tessa frowned, stepping in after him. Closing the door, she grabbed his chin gently and met his eyes. “You know, Damian Wayne, you’re a good liar, but I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting them.” 

He opened his mouth, not sure what he could even say to that, because how do you respond to your girlfriend calling you out on a lie you can’t tell her the truth about? 

She didn’t let him say anything though. “You don’t need to explain yourself, Dami, but if you don’t want to tell me something, just say that. I promise I won’t take it personally.” 

“It’s not that I–” 

“Damian!” 

His head snapped to the stairs. Towards the voice. Jon’s voice. 

Towards the blur of motion that was him as he _flew_ towards them. 

Why. Why did the universe hate him. 

He didn’t have time to warn him. Not when Jon was moving that fast. Not when they were right there. 

He watched as Jon shot over the second-floor railing. Watched as his best friend saw Tessa. Watched his face fall as he realized what he was doing. Watched him stop flying halfway through the movement but still vaulted over the railing. 

That was better, at least. Less idiotic. Even if Jon not using his powers as he fell a story wasn’t the smartest thing. 

Landing in a roll, Jon popped up in front of them with a wide smile on his face. A fake one. One there for show, because Damian was doing his best not to strangle his best friend at his stupidity. 

“Hi,” Jon said, still grinning. 

“Did you just _fly_?” Tessa asked, stepping up beside him. 

Strangling. Strangling sounded very, very good right about now. 

“What? Me? Flying?” Jon said. “Pshh, I can’t fly. That’s insane.” 

Damian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He liked Jon, he really did, but the kid couldn’t lie for shit. Why he continued to try was beyond him. 

“So is jumping off the top of that staircase if you can’t fly,” Tessa said, waving towards the stairs. 

“I-I ju–” 

“Dick’s been teaching him some of his old circus tricks, but Jon doesn’t really know the word _slow_ or _safety_ ,” Damian said, stepping forward and slinging an arm around Jon to get him to shut up. “You know, since he’s an idiot and likes doing idiotic things.” 

Jon winced. 

Tessa looked between the two of them, lips pressed together. Damian stifled a sigh. She wasn’t buying it. That was her I-don’t-believe-you face. 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Tessa said, clearly not impressed. “It’s not any more ridiculous than some of the other excuses you’ve come up with to explain your weird family.” 

“It’s the tru–” 

“Damian, stop,” she said, and for once just looked _tired_. “I know you’re lying, you know you’re lying, so let’s stop pretending. I’m done with it. Stop trying to pass a lie for the truth. I’m not an idiot.” 

“I never said you were.” 

“You didn’t have to, your actions said that loud and clear.” 

“Tessa–” 

She held up her hands. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. Like I said, I won’t force you to tell me the truth. Just promise that you’ll explain all of… _whatever_ this is eventually, okay?” 

“Okay,” he said, voice tight. 

She walked past him, patting his shoulder. “I’m going to go pick a movie. You and Jon can go get plates and popcorn.” 

Before he could answer she was already out of the room. 

Jon turned to face him and said, “I didn’t see her.” 

Damian glared. “The number of times I’ve heard that from my family this past month is ridiculous. I thought you’d be better than that, Kent.” 

Jon cringed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know,” Damian said, his glare softening. Huffing, he said, “Just don’t use your heat vision, okay? I don’t think I’ll be able to explain away that as easily.” 

“You didn’t exactly explain that one easily,” Jon said, motioning towards where Tessa had disappeared. “How–” 

His jaw tightened. “Don’t.” 

He didn’t want to hear it. He knew what Jon was going to say. It was what he’d told him a month ago after they’d started dating. What he’d been saying every time they talked. Repetitively. 

“How long– Damian, you can’t just walk away from me.” 

“Then what am I doing?” he asked, turning and walking backward towards the kitchen. 

Jon glared, jogging after him. “Being an ass.” 

“You should be used to it by now.” 

“Believe me, I am,” Jon muttered, falling into step beside him. 

He ignored the twist in his chest at the comment. 

Louder, Jon asked, “How long has this been going on?” 

“How long has what been going on?” 

“Damian.” 

He leveled Jon with a flat look. 

It didn’t matter. The _this_ wasn’t any of Jon’s concern. He could handle it. Had plans to handle this, even if Jon thought he didn’t. He’d come up with plans to keep her questions away the second they became friends. All he’d had to do when they started dating was modify them. 

“Damian, she just called you out for lying,” Jon said, stepping into his path right in front of the kitchen door. “From the look on her face, it wasn’t the first time, so I’ll ask again: how long has this been going on?” 

He looked Jon up and down. Arms crossed, slight frown, and eyes hard. Damian sighed. He wasn’t going to move. 

“Two and a half weeks.” 

Jon stared at him. His stomach tightened uncomfortably. 

Pressing his lips together, he walked straight into Jon. He let him pass. 

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Damian said, grabbing two bags of popcorn from a cabinet. 

“You saying that means it is,” Jon said, pushing himself up onto a counter. 

Damian frowned. It didn’t. He was wrong. Tessa calling him out for lying was a big deal it just… it didn’t matter what it was. Didn’t matter that every time she did his chest hurt. Didn’t matter that in all his plans, he hadn’t planned for the guilt that came with lying to her. 

He threw one of the bags of popcorn in the microwave, slamming the doors shut. 

The electric hum of the microwave filled the kitchen. He could feel Jon staring at him. Watching. Judging. That stupid bleeding heart of his making a grand appearance on his face. He could almost feel the pity radiating off him. 

Well, he didn’t want it. He was handling this. Would handle this. Just like he had handled every situation before now. 

“You know, you could just tell her,” Jon said. 

The popcorn popped in the microwave, again and again. 

“No.” 

The sound filled the kitchen, the _pop pop pop_ echoing off the tile again and again until they became indistinguishable from one another. 

Raising his voice, Jon asked, “Why not?” 

“Because,” Damian said, glaring at the microwave. 

“That’s a great reason, Dames,” Jon said, rolling his eyes. 

Opening the door to the microwave Damian grabbed the popcorn and threw the bag at Jon’s head. 

He caught it, not even flinching at the heat. Stupid Kryptonian DNA. Moving the bag away from his face, Jon gave him a flat look. “Real mature.” 

“I’m just taking after you,” Damian said, grabbing the next bag of popcorn and putting it in the microwave. 

Huffing, Jon slid off the counter and moved to get a bowl. “Why won’t you tell her? You obviously care about her and aren’t just doing this to mess around, and she’s already asking questions. Isn’t it better to tell her the truth now before the lie gets bigger?” 

“No,” Damian said, listening to the popping of the popcorn. 

Jon waited, as if expecting a longer answer that wasn’t going to come, before sighing. “It’s at moments like these that I know you’re related to Bruce.” 

“Very funny.” 

“I’m not joking,” Jon said, dumping the popcorn into a bowl. “The longer you wait to tell her, the worse the lie is going to get. Tell her now and you’ve only been lying for a little over a month. Tell her in two months? Three? There’s going to be a lot more of the lie there, and the more of the lie there is the more it’s going to hurt her.” 

Damian face twisted into a snarl. “I’m lying to her to _keep_ her from harm.” 

Because if she knew– if she knew he put himself out there night after night in situations where he could get hurt, she would want to do something about it. She wouldn’t be smart, or logical, or anything that she should be when it came to this situation and put herself into harm's way. She’d do something stupid and reckless and get on the wrong side of the wrong people, and _he wasn’t going to let that happen_. 

They’d just gotten Tessa out of harm's way. She was finally safe, finally _happy_ , and there was no way he was going to tell her and put her in a worse kind of danger than the one before. 

“I know, Dames,” Jon said. “You’re lying so she doesn’t get hurt out there, but every time you lie you are hurting her. It’s just a different kind.” 

His jaw clenched. “It’s better than her getting hurt out there.” 

“Maybe,” Jon said. The microwave beeped, and Jon nudged him out of the way and grabbed it. “But are you really willing to risk ruining this relationship by lying to her?” 

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, a silent scream of _no_. He wouldn’t lose her. Wouldn’t lose this. He could keep the truth from her and still make this work. 

“She’ll understand,” Damian said, meeting Jon’s eyes. “When I tell her, she’ll understand.” 

“Probably,” Jon said, pouring the popcorn into another bowl. “But how much of a relationship will be left at that point?” 

“All of it,” Damian growled, slamming glasses onto the counter. “All of it will be left. You heard her. She’s not going to push it.” 

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t hurting her that you’re lying,” Jon said, taking one of the glasses and filling it with water. “That doesn’t mean she won’t get sick of all the lying at some point and decide this isn’t worth it.” 

He was wrong. Jon was _wrong_. They would be fine. He’d get better at lying, his family would get better at not being stupid, and they would be _fine_. She didn’t have to know because she wouldn’t be able to tell he was lying. 

And even if she could… “If it keeps her safe, then she can hate me.” 

“Dames, that’s not…” Jon sighed, walking over and laying a hand on his shoulder. “Look. Like it or not, Tessa’s already in harm's way because she’s dating _you_. She’s dating Damian Wayne, and that makes her a target because every low life out there will think they can get something out of you if they get her. I know Bruce is big on the whole don’t-tell-anyone-your-secret-identity thing and maybe that’s why you’re so against this, but isn’t it better to tell her you’re Robin so if something happens, she’ll know she’ll be fine?” 

He snarled, “No one’s going to get close enough to touch her.” 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Jon said. “But you know what’s out there. You know what people have done to you in your civilian persona. Do you really think people won’t at least try?” 

He walked close enough to Jon that they were almost touching and said, “They. Won’t. Touch. Her.” 

Jon sighed. “Alright. But just… think about telling her, okay? I’ll support you either way, but think about it, Dames. You owe her at least that much.” 

Grabbing one of the bowls of popcorn and a glass of water, Jon walked out of the room. 

Something in his chest thrashed. Closing his eyes, Damian forced in deep breath after deep breath until he felt it settle. Felt it sleep, curled around his heart like an asp waiting to be unleashed. 

Letting out a long breath, Damian grabbed the remaining bowl of popcorn and the two waters left, then walked out of the room to go find Jon and Tessa. 

\-------------------------------- 

Rooftops were his. They were the place where he was truly himself— looking out over the expanse that stretched out before him, the cool air that bit at any exposed skin, the night and the stars, the lights in the towering buildings, the noise that came with this city that refused to be quiet even in the dark. 

This was his. This place, these rooftops, the city. They were his, and when he was up here, there was nothing but him and the thrum that went through his veins. 

Yet tonight, he felt unbalanced. And it was showing. 

Showing in the half a second longer it took him to get to the screams. The minute longer it took to get the criminals down. The bruise on his ribs that made him take shallower breaths than normal. 

He was distracted, and it was so blatantly obvious he wanted to punch something. 

Lucky for him, that’s exactly what he was out here to do. 

Dropping from the roof, he landed in a crouch behind three men holding down a screaming woman. A woman only a few years older than him, with the same light brown hair that Tessa had. 

His jaw tightened. Now wasn’t the time to think about her. About what Jon had said. About everything. 

Without warning, he grabbed the back of the first man's shirt and pulled him away, punching him in the jaw and sending him to the ground. 

The other men turned to face him, letting go of the girl. 

He met her eyes, wide and shining and so much like Tessa’s could be, and growled, “Go.” 

She bolted. One of the men reached for her, but he threw a batarang. It slammed into his hand. A crack and a scream followed. 

He didn’t wait. Didn’t hesitate or let them speak before flying at the man and slamming him face first into a wall. 

Two minutes, and they were groaning and tied up on the sidewalk, ready for the police to take them away. Two minutes, and he was breathing hard and had a bruise forming on his cheek. 

It’d been a lucky shot. A distracted moment. A sloppy move. It shouldn’t have landed. He should have been better than that. He _was_ better than that. 

Gently he touched his cheek, jaw tightening at the pain. That was going to be a big, ugly bruise that he wasn’t going to be able to hide. Tessa was going to see it. And he was going to have to come up with a lie. 

Growling, he shot his grappling hook and let the rush of cold air as he shot towards the nearest roof clear his head. 

Only it didn’t. 

His thoughts flew with him, the whispered words echoing in his ears. The words that said _lying isn’t righ_ t, that _you aren’t protecting her_ , that _all this is doing is hurting her_. The words that had been chasing him all afternoon, an unending loop that always led back to those words he’d said to Jon. 

_If it keeps her safe, then she can hate me._

He landed on the roof in a roll, coming up in a crouch near its center. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath of freezing air. 

He meant it. He meant those words with everything in him. If she was safe, he didn’t care what happened to him. What she thought of him. If the price of keeping her out of harm's way was her hate, he’d pay it. Without hesitation. Again and again. 

But the thought of her hating him… his chest tightened so much he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

He could do it. He could endure it. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to lose her. 

“Hey, Little D, everything alright?” 

Damian opened his eyes to find Dick standing in front of him and putting his escrima sticks into their sheaths on his back. He had that half-frown, half-smile look on his face that meant he was worried but was trying not to show it. Not that it ever worked. 

Sighing, Damian stood up and said, “I’m fine.” 

Dick fully frowned, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong.” 

Damian’s lips tightened. Dick wasn’t asking. He could see it from his stance. He was pretty sure that Dick would physically restrain him until he told him what was wrong. 

And… it was Dick. If he was going to talk to anyone about this, he’d want it to be him. Want it to be his more-than-just-a-big-brother. 

His shoulders slumped. “Am I wrong for not telling her about all of this?” 

Dick’s eyes widened slightly under the mask. He uncrossed his arms, walking over and placing his hands on his shoulders. “Why aren’t you telling her?” 

Damian met his eyes. “To keep her safe.” 

“Okay,” Dick said, rolling the word around in his mouth. “How does not telling her keep her safe?” 

Damian frowned. What the hell kind of question was that? 

“Humor me,” Dick said, shaking his shoulders slightly. “How does not telling her keep her safe?” 

“If she doesn’t know, none of the rogues will go after her,” Damian said, holding up a finger. “She won’t be thrust into the middle of our crazy lives. She won’t try to run head first into danger because that’s where I am. She won’t worry about me. She won’t somehow get it into her mind to put on a costume and come out here with us.” 

He paused, five fingers held up in the air. 

“So,” Dick said before he could think of any more reasons, “just for the fun of it, let’s break down these arguments, okay?” 

“No,” Damian said, crossing his arms. He didn’t want to _break down_ his points. His points were solid. 

“Okay, great,” Dick said, slapping his shoulder before walking across the rooftop. “So, first point was the rogues. Why would telling her make them go after her when they don’t even know who she is?” 

Damian glared. “Because if she knows, she’ll get on their radar and they’ll come after her.” 

“But how will she get on their radar?” 

“Because she’ll be associated with us.” 

“How will they know that?” 

“Because she’ll be seen with us.” 

“Will she? Cause I don’t think she’ll be seen hanging out with Robin and Nightwing.” 

Damian opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. 

“Alright,” Dick said, doing that thing where he talked with his hands. “Now that we’ve got that stupid reason gone what was the next one?” 

Fine. Maybe that one was stupid. He’d take that. 

“She’ll be thrust into our crazy lives,” he said. 

“Oh, Robin, really?” Dick said. “That’s not a reason, that’s an excuse. She’s already in our lives and telling her or not isn’t going to change that. If you think that, then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Next reason.” 

Damian took in a long breath and swallowed the urge to shove his brother off the roof. Letting out the breath slowly he said, “She won’t run headfirst into danger because I am.” 

Dick clicked his tongue. “Okay, that one’s legitimate. I think she’s smarter than that, but I can see that happen. Next?” 

“She won’t worry about me.” 

“That’s an excuse and you know it,” Dick said. “It also has nothing to do with keeping her safe and all to do with your stupid pride or whatever it is that doesn’t want her to worry. Next?” 

Damian growled, balling his hands into fists. He wanted to punch something. Mostly because Dick was right and he hated it. Partially because he hated how quickly he dismissed things. But mostly because he hated being wrong. 

“She won’t try to become a vigilante.” 

“That… that one I can’t argue against either,” Dick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Considering the track record with people who’ve come into our family and become vigilantes that’s a possibility.” 

He pressed his lips together. Yes, it was a possibility. It’s what he was terrified of. That, more than anything else, was what kept him from not telling her. Because if she saw what they did and decided she wanted to join he was going to have a heart attack. 

That’s why he didn’t want Jason teaching her to shoot. Why he didn’t want her to learn how to fight. Because if she already knew how to do that, then it wouldn’t be hard for her to take that next step. And if she decided to… 

He wouldn’t let her. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let her put herself in danger like that. 

Screw being hypocritical. Screw being right. Screw everything but keeping her safe. 

If he told her, she’d ask. She’d move in that direction. And he couldn’t risk that. 

“That’s why you don’t want to tell her,” Dick said. “Because you’re scared of her being out here.” 

He met Dick’s eyes. 

“What’s the long-term plan, D?” Dick asked. “She’s going to need to find out eventually. You can’t hide this from her forever. One way or another, she’s going to find out.” 

“There is no long-term,” he said. “There’s only keeping her safe and off the streets, and the only way I know how to do that is to lie.” 

“And what happens if all the lying tears you guys apart?” Dick asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

He turned his back on Dick, pulling out a grappling hook. Looking over his shoulder, he said, “Then so be it.” 

He shot the grapple and flew into the air, the hollowness in his chest swallowing him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm trying to get back in the swing of posting twice a week, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. The next one should be up on Saturday since I'm attempting to get back to posting wed/sat, but if I miss it please don't murder me it's been a while since I've written this much :)
> 
> Thank you to my amazing beta Mystik_Owl who's been helping me out these past few chapters. Luv ya <3
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments or on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/) :)


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day :)

Tessa opened her door— her jaw nearly dropped when she saw Damian in his suit. 

Sure, yes, she knew he was going to be wearing one since it was Valentine’s day and they were going out to dinner, and it’s not like she _hadn’t_ seen him in one before, but hot damn she’d forgotten how good he looked in one. 

And when he smiled at her, a real, brilliant, beautiful smile, she nearly fell over in the ridiculously tall heels Cass had gotten for her. 

“You look beautiful, Tess,” he said, looking her up and down. 

“Thanks,” she said, looking down at the calf-length red dress. She did love it. The satin and pleats and deep V were gorgeous, and somehow red was her color. Go figure. She’d always thought of herself as blue. 

“Here,” he said, pulling his hands from behind his back to reveal a single red rose. 

She nearly snorted. It was so… so… so _cliché_. So classically romantic and old school and overdone that it was utterly ridiculous. And utterly perfect. She couldn’t imagine a better gift. It was so… them. Him. Of course he’d get her something like that. 

Reaching out she took the rose from him, bringing it up to her face to smell it. She breathed in, smiling slightly at the scent. At him. Opening her eyes, she said, “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” Damian said, putting his hands in his pockets. “I wasn’t going to show up for our date empty-handed.” 

She did snort that time. “Well, it’s a good thing we had the same thought.” 

Reaching to her right she grabbed the miniature teddy bear she’d gotten him and held it out for him to examine. 

The confused look on his face turned to exasperation. She beamed. Waving it around slightly, she asked, “Do you like it?” 

“Really?” he said, looking between her and the teddy bear. 

“Yes, really,” she said, putting one hand on her hip. “I saw it and thought of you, so I got it. It even has a little heart, Dami. A _heart_.” 

“I can see that,” he said, taking it from her hands with something between a smile and a frown on his face. He twirled it, as if looking for something else. He sighed, lowering it down to his side, and said, “You got this for me because you thought it’d be funny, didn’t you?” 

“Oh yeah,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then walking past him. Turning around so she was walking backwards. “But you love it. You know you do.” 

“Of course I do,” Damian said, catching up to her. 

“And you’ll keep it forever?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of throwing it away.” 

“Good,” she said, looping her arm through his. “So, are we going to dinner or not? We still have school tomorrow and I want to sleep.” 

“You’re worried about sleep,” Damian said. “While we’re on a date.” 

“Yes,” she said, sliding into the car when he held the door open for her. “Sleep’s important. You should try it sometime.” 

“I sleep,” Damian said, sliding into his seat and turning on the car. 

She snorted. Damian? Sleeping? Hilarious. She didn’t know what it was that kept him up so late, but whatever it was made it so he got a minimal amount of sleep. Not that it was noticeable most days. Just the ones when he got less than his designated four hours. 

“I do,” Damian said, pulling out onto the street. 

“Sure,” Tessa said, twirling the rose in her hand. “We can go with that.” 

Damian groaned. She smiled into the rose. It was so much _fun_ to tease him. 

“So,” she said, setting the rose down, “which ridiculously expensive restaurant are we going to this time?” 

Over the almost two months they’d been dating, Damian had brought her to one or two of the best restaurants in town. The first time she’d been so overwhelmed between the press that had been waiting outside and the restaurant itself that she barely remembered the night, but the second time it’d been great. Perks of having a billionaire boyfriend. 

Not that her family wasn’t well off. Her dad had more than enough money. Way more. He just didn’t happen to share it with her except on rare occasions. 

“That new French restaurant downtown,” Damian said, turning onto the main street and hitting the inevitable traffic that came with Gotham. “Dick said it was good when he took Barbara.” 

“Wait,” Tessa said, putting a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Back up. Dick took Barbara? As in Barbara, Barbara? Babs, Barbara?” 

“Yeah,” Damian said, looking between her hand and her face with furrowed brows. 

“Since when have they been… been a _thing_?” she nearly screeched. “Why don’t I know about this? How long have they been together? Is it new? It better be new or I swear I’m going to–” 

“Breathe,” Damian said. She sucked in a deep. “They’ve done the whole on-and-off thing since before I moved in with Father, they’re just on right now. As far as I know it’s only been a couple days, but knowing them they’ve probably been doing this for a couple weeks and just haven’t told anyone.” 

What the hell? Why didn’t anyone say anything? Why didn’t Cass or Steph say something? They had to have known. Or at least have guessed. Hell, with how much they all teased her about Damian they should have been doing the same with Babs. 

“What is with your family and secrets?” she asked, half-glaring. 

Damian mumbled, “Paranoia.” 

Her brows pulled together. Paranoia? That was such a bullshit answer. Of course that’s why people kept secrets. That’s why everyone kept secrets. Besides, what did they have to be paranoid about? Yes, she’d seen what happened when that family found something out, but it really wasn’t worth keeping secrets for that alone. 

And, you know, if they just didn’t keep secrets in the first place their insane reactions probably wouldn’t happen nearly as much. Just saying. 

She pushed out a long breath, trying to get rid of the tightness in her stomach. She wasn’t angry. She’d promised she wouldn’t be angry. And she wasn’t – kind of. She respected his secrets, whatever they were, it was just… hard. It was getting hard to understand when he kept lying to her face. When it seemed to touch every aspect of his life. 

Damian reached over and took her hand, squeezing it. She looked at him, the tightness fading. Because it was Damian. And no matter what, she couldn’t stay mad at him. Even if she wanted to. 

“So, Babs and Dick thought this place was good?” she said, lacing her fingers through his. 

“Yeah,” Damian said with a sigh. “Dick said the beef bourguignon was good.” 

“I’ll pretend I know what that is,” she said, smiling. 

Damian huffed a laugh. “It’s– _shit_.” 

He slammed on the breaks, barely stopping the car before it crashed into the car in front of them who had just done the same. 

“Are you alright?” Damian asked, twisting fully in his seat and cupping her face. “Are you hurt?” 

“No, I’m fine,” Tessa said, heart pounding. Taking his hands in hers she lowered them down and repeated, “I’m fine, Dami. Promise.” 

Frowning she looked out the front window. What the hell was going on? The entire block was stopped in varying degrees of bad, with more than half the cars crashed into each other. None of them looked too bad, but what the hell had happened at the front for the entire block to… 

Tessa squinted, leaning forward in her seat. At the end of the block it almost looked like there was a giant tube laying across the intersection. Had one of those giant moving truck tipped over? Tilting her head, she asked, “What do you think that–?” 

“Get out of the car,” Damian said, unbuckling his seatbelt. 

She looked at him, eyebrows raised. “What are–” 

“Out, Tessa,” he said, reaching across her and opening her door. “Now.” 

She swallowed hard. Something was wrong. That was the same voice he got whenever her dad was brought up. Hands shaking slightly, she unbuckled and slipped out of the car. 

People in front of her were doing the same, barely even closing their doors before bolting towards her. No, not towards her– away from whatever it was that had caused everyone to crash. Whatever it was that made Damian’s voice go hard and his eyes sharpen to that laser-focused state. 

Frowning Tessa took half a step forward. What was that circular thing? It looked like it was… like it was moving. Like there were things going off it that were coiling in the air. Were they coming closer? They looked like they were coming closer. What the hell was–? “Tessa, drop!” 

She didn’t even think about it. She just squatted, hands banging into the ground to keep her balance. 

Right as a vine shot over her head, right where her chest had just been. 

Holy _shit_ this was Poison Ivy. It had to be. She was the only psycho who could somehow control plants or whatever it was she did. But wasn’t she in Arkham? Well, of course she wasn’t in Arkham or this wouldn’t be happening right now, but when the hell did she get out? Had she just missed it? Was it new? 

A hand wrapped around hers and tugged her up, running parallel to the vine that was still stretching down the street. No, not down the street. Around the building. It was wrapping its way up and around the nearest skyscraper so tight that glass was shattering and raining down on the streets. 

She looked at Damian in front of her, his head bent as he raced away from the damage. Away from the giant vine that was almost pulsing. What the fuck was it? Some mutated climbing plant? Shit, she didn’t know plants. 

Damian stopped, crouching low next to a car and dragging her down with him. Breathing hard, she asked, “What the hell is happening?” 

“Ivy,” Damian said, surveying the intersection just in front of them and the screaming people attaching to the vines. God, the vines were wrapping around people. If Damian hadn’t said something, she probably would be one of them. 

She hit his shoulder. “I know that. I mean what are we going to do?” 

“Two blocks straight and three to left will bring us to the Wayne Enterprises building. You’ll be safe there,” Damian said, unbuttoning his suit jacket and taking it off. “If you see anyone else on the way, tell them to go there too.” 

She swallowed hard. “Okay.” 

“On my mark, run as far to the left as you can across the intersection,” he said. “Here.” 

He handed her his shoes. She frowned. “Dami, you can’t run without–” 

“And you can’t run in heels,” he said, placing his shoes on the floor. “Now put them on.” 

“No,” she said, pushing them back towards him. “There’s broken glass everywhere you’ll–” 

“Tessa, put them on,” he said, gripping her shoulders. “This isn’t a discussion.” 

She glared as she reached for the shoes. 

“On my mark,” Damian said, facing forward against as he balanced on the balls of his feet. 

She tried to do the same, ignoring how much extra room there was in Damian’s shoes. It didn’t matter. She could run in them. Even if she hated it. 

“Now!” 

They ran, Tessa half a step behind Damian. 

Why the hell was this happening? Of all the days to pick, why did Ivy pick today? Couldn’t she have picked some random, boring day when it wouldn’t matter? Hell, they’d just had that breakout from Arkham two weeks ago. Was that how Ivy got out? Probably. What the fuck. Why couldn’t things just be normal? 

A vine shot for them. Damian grabbed her and spun, the vine centimeters from his back. He barely even stopped running. Just grabbed her hand as soon as her feet were back on the ground and pulled her after him like it was nothing. Like he hadn’t just deftly dodged a vine she hadn’t even seen. 

How the hell did he do that? Yeah, she knew he had good reflexes and knew how to fight from all those self-defense lessons where he kicked her ass, but this? This was different. This was on a whole different level. 

They were down one block, then another. The screaming was less. The vines less. It seemed it was centered around those blocks with whatever Ivy was doing stemming from there. That’s probably where she was. Hell, if they’d been driving just a little bit earlier… 

Damian pulled her around the corner, a trail of five people following after them. When the hell had they gotten there? She hadn’t heard Damian say anything. Hadn’t even seen him grab them and tell them to follow. Hadn’t heard anything put the pounding of her own heart in her ears. 

The three blocks to the Wayne Enterprises Tower were a blur. One second they were rounding that corner, and the next they were stumbling into the lobby with twenty-odd people and the staff in the lobby were racing towards them with first aid kits. 

Damian gently took her hand and pulled her off to the side, sitting her down in a ridiculously nice chair and crouching down in front of her. “Are you okay?” he asked, brushing the hair out of her face as he looked her over. “Are you hurt?” 

“I’m okay,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “Are you okay?” 

“Fine,” he said, reaching down and opening the first aid kit next to him. “Give me your hands.” 

“What?” she asked, looking down at her hands. And the cuts and dirt scattered across her palm. 

She didn’t even feel it. Didn’t remember getting them. Was it when she’d dropped to the ground? Probably. That had to be when she’d gotten them. 

Numbly she held her hand out for Damian. 

He squeezed something onto his finger then gently smeared it onto her palm. She hissed, jerking her hand, but his grip tightened as he kept smearing what had to be disinfectant onto her palm. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” she said, biting back another hiss as he started on her other palm. “It needs to be cleaned out. A warning would have been nice, though.” 

“Being prepared for pain doesn’t make it hurt less,” Damian said, grabbing gauze and wrapping it around her hands. “Sometimes it makes it worse.” 

She frowned. He said that like he knew. She shook her head, instead nodding towards the gauze and saying, “Isn’t that a bit much?” 

“I’d rather it be a bit much than for your hands to get infected,” he said, taping it in place. 

“Fair enough,” she said, flexing and bending her fingers. “What about you? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” he said, closing up the first aid kit. “A couple scratches, but nothing that needs attention right now.” 

“What do you mean right now?” she asked, watching as he stood up with the first aid kit. “Where are you going?” 

“People still need help,” he said, turning to walk towards the door. 

“People… of course people need help,” she said, walking around him to block his path. “That doesn’t mean you need to be the one to help them.” 

“Tess–” 

“What exactly do you think you can do, Damian? Because that out there, you can’t help. It’s _Poison Ivy_. You can’t fix that or help people out of that situation. The only thing you’ll end up doing is making yourself just another person that needs to be saved.” 

“There are people stuck on the street, people who are hurt and need medical attention, people who are confused and scared that I can direct back here,” Damian said, hands tightening. “I can help by making sure that people are off the streets so they don’t get hurt in the first place.” 

“Let Batman and them deal with it,” she said, grabbing his arm. “Let the police handle it. You don’t need to go out there.” 

“Yes, I do,” Damian said, taking her hand off his arm. He turned around again, walking towards the door. 

She stared at him, heart pounding. What was wrong with him? Why the hell did he have a death wish? He wasn’t armed, he wasn’t a fighter, he wasn’t anything. He was just Damian, and he was going to walk out there in that chaos and try to help because… because what? Because nothing. Because he was an idiot. 

_Her_ idiot. He was her stupid ass idiot who had too big of a heart and thought he could help people and not get himself killed in the process. 

“Fine,” she said, walking after him. “Fine, go out there, but I’m coming with you.” 

Damian froze, turning to face her with wide eyes. “Tess, no–” 

She crossed her arms. “What, so you can go out there, but I can’t?” 

“That’s not–” 

“Then what, Dami? Because I’m not letting you walk out there alone. If you think I am you’re insane.” 

“And you’re insane if you think I’d let you go out there.” 

“I think we’ve been over this, but in case you need a refresher, you don’t _let_ me do anything.” 

“Tess, I need to go out there to help people. I can’t do that if I’m worrying about you.” 

“So, you want me to stay in here like the helpless princess while you go off to fight? Fuck that.” 

“No, I want you to stay here because the thought of you getting hurt makes me sick.” 

“Well that makes two of us, Damian, because if I let you walk out there alone and you get hurt I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” 

“And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you go with me and you get hurt.” 

“So then stay.” 

They were both breathing hard, inches away from each other. She could see the brown flecks in his otherwise green eyes, a tiny little imperfection that was hardly noticeable. But she noticed. Just like she noticed the fear flickering in his eyes. 

It made her breath catch in her throat. She’d never seen him look like that. Look afraid. No matter what was happening, he’d always been leveled headed, but here they were, talking about them going back out there, and he was scared. 

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, saying into his shoulder, “You don’t have to go out there, Damian. It’s not your job–” 

“It is,” he said. 

“It’s not,” she repeated, holding him tighter. “It’s not your job to go out there and save everyone. It’s okay to be scared–” 

“I’m not scared, Tess,” Damian said, wrapping his arms around her. “Not for myself. I’m terrified of what could happen to you out there.” 

“Then you know how I feel when you say you want to leave.” 

Damian sighed, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I need to go out there, Tessa. I know you don’t get it, I know you’re scared, but if I don’t people are going to die.” 

“That’s ridic–” 

“Tessa, you have to trust me,” he said. “I need to do this. And I need you to stay here so I’m not distracted.” 

“Why,” she said, voice hitching as she tightened her grip. “Why does it need to be you?” 

She felt him tense. 

This was… this was one of his secrets. Whatever reason he thought he had to go out there, he wasn’t going to tell her. He was going to go out there and risk his life for some stupid, pointless, idiotic god-complex and he wasn’t even going to tell her why. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then pulled out of her grip. Looking her dead in the eye, he said, “I love you.” 

She froze. Every muscle in her body locked as those words washed over her, those three little words that had been playing around in her head for days. Words that were now echoing in her ear, a deafening beat as he let go of her completely and started walking towards the door. 

What the… what the _fuck_. 

Damian stopped, half turning. 

“What the fuck,” she said, walking towards him and shoving his chest. He stumbled back half a step. “You don’t get to just say shit like that right before you walk out into hell.” 

“I–” 

“No,” she said, balling her hand in his shirt. “You don’t get to talk right now. You’re about to walk out there, where _Poison Ivy_ is with _killer vines_ , where you could get hurt and possibly _die_ , and you say you _love me_? No. You don’t get to do that shit, Damian. You don’t say it now when you know you might not say it again. It’s not fair.” 

Her voice hitched, tears blurring her vision. Damian was staring at her, his mouth slightly open and completely frozen like he didn’t know what to do. 

“It’s not fair,” she said again, voice shaking. 

“Tessa–” 

She didn’t let him finish. She just pulled him down and pressed her lips against his, kissing him hard and quick before pushing him away. 

Meeting his eyes, she said, “I love you too, Damian. And you better come back so I get to say it again.” 

“I promise,” he said. 

Then he was gone, out the door and racing down the street back towards the vines that they’d run away from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I knoooooow this is the wrong holiday for today but whatever.
> 
> Merry Christmas! I hope everyone has a lovely day, and here's my present to you guys for being such amazing readers and sticking with me throughout this story. I mean, we just hit 100K words. That's so many. Sooooo many. Like it's blowing my mind a bit that I hit 100K and still have a good chunk to go.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to my beta Mystic_Owl who is amazing and lovely and helped me figure out where this chapter should end. Sorry about that by the way. But the other ending would have just been a different cliffhanger so this was the better one :)
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments or message me on my [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/)


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa goes after Damian

Waiting was the worst part. Sitting, standing, pacing, talking, helping – it didn’t matter what Tessa did, it did nothing to relieve the anxiety curling in her stomach. It didn’t do anything. Nothing did. There was only the clock on the wall and the thing in her stomach whispering everything that could go wrong. 

Every time the door opened her entire body would light up, only to be crushed when yet another person stumbled into the lobby, injured and dazed. Every time someone whispered, she’d strain to hear, hoping and dreading what she would hear. Every sound outside had her heart skipping a beat in her chest. 

She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t just sit here while Damian was out there doing who knows what. Couldn’t be in here not knowing what was happening when he could be hurt or in trouble or worse. Couldn’t stay here _safe_ when he was anything but. 

Tessa stood up, shoving a hand through her hair and pacing. Again. Looking at his shoes. Again. _His_ shoes, because he hadn’t taken them back before he ran out there, which meant he was running around without shoes like some goddamn idiot. Which meant he was that much more likely to get hurt. 

God, _why_ did she let him leave? Why had she promised to stay? What the hell was her problem? What the hell was his problem? 

The amount of good he could do out there couldn’t be much. It couldn’t. As amazing a person as Damian was, what the hell could he do against Poison Ivy and her living plants? Nothing. The answer was nothing. He couldn’t do anything against that. She was doubtful that anyone but Batman could do anything against that. 

She forced a breath into her lungs, sharp and fast. Why did she promise to stay? Why? He shouldn’t be out there alone. He shouldn’t be out there at all, but if he had to be, she should be there with him. They should be together. 

Because she loved him. And he loved her. 

Of all the ways she’d thought she’d say those words, now hadn’t even crossed her mind. Not when they might get hurt. Not when things could go wrong. Not when– not now. 

She sat down in the same chair she’d sat in when Damian had cleaned her hands, chest feeling hollow. She loved him. Had for a while. She didn’t know when she fell in love with him in the six months since they’d known each other, but she had. It’d just taken her until recently to realize it. 

And now it was out there, and he was out there, and he loved her, but if something happened, they might not be able to say those words again. 

She bit her lip. He was okay. He had to be okay. Please, let him be okay. She didn’t know what she’d do if he wasn’t. 

She just… she just wanted to know what was happening. She wanted to know if Poison Ivy was still out there, or if it was just her without the vines, or if everything had gone to shit and it was somehow worse. She hoped it wasn’t worse. Hoped it was better. Safer. 

God, it’d only been half an hour. Half an hour of sitting here feeling like she was going to throw up. Half an hour of nearly running out the door. Half an hour of cursing herself and everything else for the fact that he was out there. 

Tessa stood up again, fingers tapping against her legs. She wanted him to come back. Wanted this to be over. Wanted to be able to yell at him and kiss him and cry into his shoulder. God, she wanted to cry. She wanted– 

Her head snapped towards the door as five people stumbled in. Five people who weren’t Damian. Five people who were coughing and covered in so much dust. 

She ran over, wrapping an arm around a girl that looked to be her age, leading her over to one of the benches. “Are you alright? What happened out there?” 

“A building,” she said, coughing into her hand, “A building came down. It just… it just crumbled. It was– god, it was awful. There were people under there. They’re… they’re… they’re…” 

Her heart stumbled in her chest, again and again. A building fell. A _building_. And there were people in it. Near it. Like them. Only they might not be okay. Damian might not be okay. 

She didn’t even think. Didn’t do anything but run out the door. 

Towards Damian. To find him. To drag him back there to safety. 

Screw promises. Screw what he said. Screw everything. 

She didn’t care. All she cared about was making sure he was okay. 

Tessa ran, feet thudding against the ground in time with her heart. Towards the vines. Towards Poison Ivy. Towards the fallen building. 

Towards Damian. 

The screams reached her first. The desperate sound of people who needed help that tore out of their lungs. Hoarse. Guttural. Pained. Three blocks away and she could already hear the cacophony of them. A sound that shoved her back into her house with her dad standing over her, his fists smeared with her blood. A sound she’d heard countless times coming from her own lips. 

A sob tore out of her chest as she ran, the screams echoing in her ear. 

She couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t go back there right now. If she did, she wouldn’t come out. She’d curl up on the street right here and lose herself to those days. 

Tessa grit her teeth as the screams grew louder. Two more blocks. Two more blocks and she’d be back where they’d been when this started. Here was the corner where they tur– 

She stumbled to a halt at what she saw before her. 

It was a jungle. The entire street was covered in a tangle of vines, high enough that they reached over her head. And they were moving. God, they were still moving, slowly twining together and stretching farther. They were taking over everything – the street, curling up buildings, crawling over cars. It was as if nature was taking back the city. 

And there, at the center, was some sort of plant that looked like something straight out of Jack and the Beanstalk. It was nearly as tall as the surrounding buildings, stretching so high it really did look like you could climb it all the way to the clouds. 

A plane was winding around it, nearly as dark as the night sky. It was firing at it – no, not at the beanstalk but the woman on it. Poison Ivy. Tessa could just see her, the bright red of her hair standing out against the green of the beanstalk. 

Around her were other figures. Masked figures. The bats. They were here. 

But they were too busy fighting Ivy and the monster plant to help all the screaming people. People who were trapped somewhere in those vines. Like Damian. 

He was _in there_. He was somewhere in those vines trying to help people like a goddamn idiot. 

“DAMIAN!” she screamed, staring into the vines. Praying that he was trying to work his way out. Praying that he wasn’t trapped or some other godawful possibility. 

“DAMIAN, WHERE ARE YOU?” she screamed, throat tight. 

She didn’t get a response. Didn’t get anything but the same cacophony of sound that she stumbled in on. 

Tessa shoved a hand through her hair. She couldn’t… she’d couldn’t just _stand here_. She couldn’t. There was no way. But going in there, climbing into those vines… here hands started to shake. 

Her fingers dug into her scalp. Deep breath. She had to take a deep breath. She had to breathe and figure out what the hell she was going to do. 

She sucked in a deep breath, then another. Okay. Staying here didn’t work. Not when Damian was out there. But climbing into the vines… that wouldn’t help. More likely than not she’d get lost or stuck or both and that wouldn’t help anything. So that meant she could… 

That meant she could climb on top of them. 

Backing up a few steps she looked at the wall of vines. There. To her left, there was a car half submerged that she could use. 

A minute later and she was on top of the vines, trying to ignore the way she felt them shift under her feet. The way it almost felt like they were going to climb over her and drag her down into the darkness below. 

Choking back a sob she stumbled forward, screaming, “DAMIAN!” 

He didn’t respond. But someone else did. Someone whose voice was so hoarse that the sound was more of a croak. 

Moving as fast as she dared she ran towards the sound, dropping to her knees when she saw the hand sticking out of the vines. 

It was a kid. He couldn’t be older than ten. 

Heart clenching, she met his eyes and said, “Stay still, okay? I’m going to get you out of there.” 

The kid nodded, tears streaming down his face. God, he was so young. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. Shouldn’t have to go through the sort of fear this brought. No kid should. 

The hole was just big enough that she could pull him up. Sitting with her feet in the whole, she said, “Take my hands, okay? I’m going to try to pull you out.” 

“My leg,” he choked out. “It’s stuck. It won’t work.” 

Tessa closed her eyes, fighting back her own panic. “Okay. Okay, then I’m going to come in there and we’re going to get it unstuck, okay?” 

The kid nodded. Taking a deep breath, Tessa slipped into the hole. 

The noise that had been everywhere dulled, leaving only her harsh breathing and the lack of space that surrounded her. The space that seemed to be getting smaller and smaller with each breath. 

Crouching down she looked at where the vines were curled around the kid's leg nearly to his knee. She pursed her lips, poking at the vines. They shifted, just a little bit. 

Tessa looked up at the kid and said, “I’m going to pull the vines apart as far as I can, and when I do, you’re going to have to wiggle your leg out. Can you do that?” 

The kid nodded. 

“Alright,” Tessa said, placing her arms on either side of his leg. “On three. One, two, three.” 

She tugged at the vines, wiggling her arm into them to create more space. It opened, inch by inch, until her entire hands were in the hole and the kid’s leg was finally moving out. Gritting her teeth, Tessa pulled harder, trying to create as much space as she could. 

His leg popped out, the kid crashing into the wall the vines created. Tessa fell backwards, breathing hard. Looking up at the kid she asked, “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” he said, shaking. 

“Okay. I’m going to climb out, then I’ll pull you up.” 

Standing up, Tessa grabbed onto the sides of the whole and heaved herself out, wiggling slightly to get more momentum. Thank god for the all the sparring lessons she’d been getting. If she hadn’t had them, she might not have had as much muscle as she did. 

She flopped on top of the vines, laying there for a moment and just breathing. Then she crouched and stuck her hands back into the hole. 

A minute and the kid was beside her, shaking and bruised and covered in dirt but okay. Placing her hands on his shoulders she brushed the hair out of his eyes and said, “I need you to climb off these vines over that way, then go to your left two blocks to the Wayne Enterprises building. There’s help there, okay?” 

The kid nodded. 

“Good. Now go.” 

“What about you?” he asked, brown eyes meeting hers. 

She smiled slightly. “I’ve got to find someone first.” 

His eyes darted over her face, then before she knew what was happening, he crashed into her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Thank you.” 

She breathed a laugh, wrapping her arms around him in return. “You’re welcome. Now go.” 

The kid pulled away, wiping at his eyes. Then he started picking his way across the vines. She didn’t stop watching until she saw him slide off them. 

She let out a breath. Okay. The kid was safe now. Which meant she could focus on Damian. She had to find Damian. 

Tessa turned back around. 

A scream ripped out of her throat. 

She didn’t even think. She just dove to the side. 

The vine shot past her. 

She hit the ground– vines. Whatever they were. She crashed into them, her knees and palms flaring with pain. 

Great. This was just great. Damian was going to kill her when she found him. He’d just wrapped her hands. 

Wait, no. No, she shouldn’t be worried about what he’s going to do to her. _He_ should be worried about what _she_ was going to do to _him_. She was going to fucking murder him for making her do this. Not to mention her dress was utterly ruined. She liked this dress. Sure, it wasn’t exac– 

A vine wrapped around her ankle. She screamed, kicking at it. 

Stupid fucking vines that were fucking everywhere fucking everything up because life fucking hated her like goddamn— why the hell did this have to happen _now_ – 

The vine let go of her ankle. Tessa scrambled to her feet, stumbling away from where it was. 

Only that wasn’t fucking possible because she was walking _on top_ of the vines. Vines that were now moving more and more and… and those were people trapped in the moving masses. People who were being dragged towards the giant monster plant. 

Oh god, what if the monster plant was going to eat them? Did plants eat people? Could they do that? Did normal plant rules even _apply_ in this situation? Fuck if she knew. All she knew was that the plants were dragging people and that meant Damian was too. 

Dodging another vine that shot for her fucking head this time she screamed, “DAMIAN!” 

Her only answer was the panicked screams of the people being dragged away. 

Another vine shot at her. She twisted, trying to get out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough. The vine cut into her arm. She hissed, hand going to the cut. 

Something between a sob and a laugh came out of her mouth. 

Tessa ran forward, towards the masses of vines that held people, but she wasn’t fast enough. Not even close. The vines shot away from her, the people in them getting further and further away. 

She could see them climbing up the giant-plant-monster thing, coming closer to Ivy. Her heart skipped a beat. She was using them as a shield. Ivy was using those people as a goddamn shield to keep the bats from coming after her. 

Her legs gave out. She crashed into the vines, a sob echoing out of her chest. She was a block away, a single block, and she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t do anything but watch as the bats tried to get the people to safety and pray that Damian would be one of them. 

What the hell was she doing here? She couldn’t help. She couldn’t do anything. She’d just lectured Damian about how ridiculous it was to come out here to help, and now she was doing the same and was just as powerless. Just as helpless. 

She should get out. Get out before she was just another person for the bats to save. But… 

But Damian was still here. And no matter how much her brain screamed at her to go, her heart was begging her to stay. To find him. To see with her own two eyes that he was alright. 

She watched Nightwing jump at one of the victims, deftly cutting the vine before flipping away with the person in his arms. 

It wasn’t Damian. Even from here, she could tell the build was wrong. 

What if he wasn’t up there? What if he was... if he was… was… 

No. She couldn’t think like that. He was fine. Damian was fi– 

A vine wrapped around her waist, so tight the air was knocked out of her. 

Then she was being hauled into the air, the vine dragging her towards the middle. 

She screamed. She couldn’t help it. The sound just tore out of her, as violent and unintended as they were when her dad swung at her. Only she wasn’t home, she was here, in the air, being dragged towards the giant monster plant. 

Her heart hammered so hard in her chest she thought it was going to give out. What the hell was she going to do? What the hell _could_ she do? She was being held at least ten feet in the air by a vine that was as thick as her thigh, she had nothing she could use as a weapon, she couldn’t even see ri– 

An explosion echoed to her left. The heat raced at her, the wave scorching her skin. She didn’t have time to register it. Didn’t have time to register anything besides the fact that she was falling. 

Another scream climbed up her throat, but before she could the wind was knocked out of her as something solid and warm crashed into her side. 

She blinked and suddenly she was so high in the air the world looked like a playset. 

What the hell was going on? How was this happening? What the hell was doing this to her? 

She blinked again and she was on the roof. Or, sort of. Someone was holding her while they stood on a roof. 

Tessa didn’t think. She just shoved at their chest. 

The person let out a sound something between a groan and a squawk, trying to grab for her. They were too late. She tumbled out of their arms, hip banging into the cement of the roof. 

She hissed, glaring at the ground. 

Before she could stand up the person dropped down besides her, hands going to the side of her face as they asked, “Are you alright?” 

Tessa looked up and found Robin staring back at her, his face so hard she flinched. 

His hands dropped from her face. 

She tried not to cringe. She hadn’t meant to flinch. It was just his face… she’d never seen someone look like that murderous. Well, no one but Damian. 

Damian. 

She scrambled to her feet, running to the edge of the roof and looking down below. She barely felt the coil of fear that shot through her at what she saw. At the massiveness of it. At how clearly she could see what was happening up here. None of it matter. 

Whirling around she found Robin a hairsbreadth from her, his hand stretched out and his mouth half open. She met his eyes and said, “Take me back.” 

He blinked – or at least she thought he blinked. It was hard to tell with the mask. “What?” 

“Take. Me. Back.” 

Robin shook his head, taking a half step back from her. “I can’t do that.” 

She followed him. “Why not?” 

“Because it’s not safe,” he said, this time holding his ground. “I’m not putting you in danger.” 

“That’s not your call,” she said, glaring. “Now take me back.” 

“Do you not realize what almost happened?” Robin said, pointing towards the monster plant. “You were almost dragged straight into the line of fire. You could have died.” 

“That’s not your concern,” she said, hitting his chest. “Take me back.” 

Robin caught her wrist, tight enough to hold but not enough to hurt. “You know, I didn’t realize you had a death wish.” 

“You don’t know me,” she said, yanking her hand out of his grip. “You don’t know anything about me. I can handle myself.” 

“Is that what you call handling yourself?” he spat, throwing his arm wide. “Because that wasn’t it. That wasn’t anywhere close to you handling anything.” 

“I was fine.” 

“No, you weren’t! You weren’t anywhere close to fine. If I hadn’t seen you, you’d be with all the other victims right now.” 

“Why the hell are you lecturing?” she screamed, hating the way tears were forming behind her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She would _not_ cry. “You don’t have that right.” 

“To hell I don’t,” Robin said, taking a step closer to her. And froze. 

A string of curses left his mouth and he stepped back, hands balling into fists. Tessa stared. What the hell? Why did that look so fa– 

“Stay here,” Robin said, pulling out a grappling hook. 

Stay here? No. No, she couldn’t stay here. Not when Damian was out there. Not when he could be hurt. Not when she didn’t know if he was okay. 

She reached out, grabbing his arm. “You don’t get it,” she said, tears finally falling. “My boyfriend. He… he’s out there somewhere. I have to find. I can’t just… _stay here_. He needs me.” 

Robin froze, turning back to look at her. She nearly stumbled back a step. His face was so impossibly soft. That same dizzying wave of familiarity hit her. 

“I’ll find him,” Robin said. “Now go back down to the Wayne Enterprises lobby. The roof access is to your left.” 

She frowned. Back? How did– 

“I’ll find him,” Robin repeated, meeting her eyes. “I promise.” 

She met his gaze. Those two white ovals that hid his eyes. But not that look. Not the way it was achingly familiar. Not the way it felt like home. 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

Without another word he jumped off the roof, his grapple racing towards another building. 

She stared. Stared and stared and stared. Because she was wrong. She had to be wrong. There was no way. 

But she looked. Looked at the similarities. Looked at the same black hair, the same skin tone, the same build. Looked at how much they resembled each other. 

He’d had the same look Damian did whenever she was hurt. Like he was going to murder the person who hurt her. Did the same thing Damian did when he was controlling his anger, balling his hands into fists and counting to five. 

And he’d said back. It could have just been a guess, but he’d said back. Like he knew she’d been in Wayne Enterprises to start. But only Damian knew that. 

She was wrong. She had to be wrong. 

But she wasn’t. She knew, deep down in her core, that she was right. 

Not because of any of those things. Because of that look. 

It was the same way Damian looked at her. Only Damian. 

Only Damian looked at her with so much love that she felt like in those moments the world didn’t exist. T

hat’s how Robin had looked at her. 

She stumbled to the edge of the roof, just able to pick out the red, yellow, and green blur that was him as he slammed into Ivy, knocking her off the vines. 

The red, yellow, and green blur that was Damian. 

Because Damian Wayne was Robin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys?
> 
> I know this is another cliffhanger, but hey, at least this one's better than the last one, right? It's not nearly as stress even if the chapter itself was... very stressful. Sorry about that. But I'm really proud of this chapter and I hope you guys loved it as much as I did.
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Mystik_Owl, for looking over this legit last night because I suck and didn't finish it until yesterday afternoon. Without her this chapter would not have been up today, so round of applause for her amazingness.
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments and feel free to send me an ask or message me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/). Talking to you guys and hearing what you have to say is my favorite part of all of this, and if I haven't said it enough thank you for sticking with me this long to those from the beginning, and thank you to all the new people who read the monstrosity that this story has become. I love all you :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa has a mini-freak out

_Damian Wayne_ was Robin. 

_Her boyfriend_ was Robin. 

What the fuck. 

Her legs gave out. Tessa slammed into the ground, head spinning. She barely felt it. Didn’t even care. Couldn’t really. Not when the realization was pulsing through her body with every beat of her heart. 

Because Damian was Robin. Her Damian. The Damian who argued with her at school. The Damian who only smiled when he was with people he loved. The Damian who didn’t back down from anything. The Damian who stood up for her time and time again. The Damian who gave her that necklace. _Her Damian._

And it made so much fucking sense. 

It’s why they didn’t hang out at night, and when they did, he sometimes had to leave. Why he knew how to fight. Why he’d randomly show up with bruises. Why there were all those weird, unexplainable things his family did. 

Because if Damian was Robin, then the rest of his family were the bats. 

Holy shit. The _Wayne’s_ were the bats. 

She crawled to the of the roof, looking down below at them. At the people who had more or less taken her in. The people who had become her friends. The people that were risking their life to stop Poison Ivy. Who risked their life day after day for this city. 

A laugh bubbled out of her throat, too high pitched. 

How did no one see it? No– that was wrong. Of course no one saw it. No one would think that _Brucie Wayne_ — the playboy who smiled too much and didn’t have a clue about what was going on— was Batman. God, Bruce Wayne was Batman. Holy shit. 

And Dick… Dick had to be Nightwing. It explained why he kept flipping off everything. Everyone knew Nightwing did those ridiculous, over the top moves. Like he was putting on a show. Just like Dick always did. 

Jason– Jason was the Red Hood. With all the lessons he’d given her on how to shoot she really should have figured it out sooner. He didn’t even dress that differently out of costume. Or in costume. Whichever way he decided to do it. 

Which meant Tim was Red Robin. But, of course he was. Only Tim could come up with a name like that and forget that Red Robin was a restaurant. 

Cass had to be Black Bat. The one that everyone was terrified of. Because Cass was terrifying. Amazing and wonderful and kind, but terrifying. 

And Steph, Steph was Batgirl. With the purple of her costume and the blonde hair it had to be her. It couldn’t be anyone else. No one else would be out there flipping and laughing and kicking ass. 

God, it made sense. It was ridiculous how much sense it made. Of everyone in Gotham, no one would expect the Wayne’s to be the bats. It was too ridiculous. If anyone had even mentioned it to her, she would have laughed in their face. 

And yet once she knew, she couldn’t imagine it being anyone else. 

Especially because she knew them now. Because she’d been around them and seen what they could do. Hell, she should have realized it sooner. When they’d been handling her dad, she’d _seen_ it. She’d seen that glimpse of steel and fire that ran in their veins. She’d freaking _heard_ Bruce’s Batman voice. 

But that was the trick, right? To make people stare right at you and not realize the truth. That’s what they did every day of their lives. 

The bats. They were the bats. She was _dating_ a bat. 

Her heart thundered in her chest. _She was dating a bat_. That was terrifying. More terrifying than the idea of dating Damian Wayne had ever been. Dating a bat meant… meant… meant… 

It meant watching him walk out the door and worrying about him not coming back. It meant sitting on the side while he risked his life. It meant knowing what the odds were and having to be okay with it. 

He could die out there. Damian could _die_. 

Her breath caught in her throat. Where the hell was he? She couldn’t see him. Couldn’t see the yellow and green that meant Robin. He had to be there. He had to be alright. _Where the hell wa–_

There– he was there. Leaping at the monster plant and sticking a goddamn sword straight into it, all the way up to the hilt. 

A scream pierced the air as the plant writhed. Poison Ivy’s scream. 

She saw Bruce – holy shit that was _Bruce_ – fighting Ivy. With his fists. Shouldn’t he be using, you know, a _weapon_ or something? Wasn’t she poisonous to the touch? Sure, he had gloves, but was the enough? 

Batman – Bruce – landed a hit, and they both tumbled off the plant. 

Right as fucking _missiles_ shot out of the plane and blew the plant into a million pieces. 

Who was… who was even in the plane? They were all out there. Was it remote controlled? Was it Babs? Oh my god, _Barbara_. How the hell did she fit into this? Cause she was a part of it. She had to be. 

She couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus on anything but the plant parts that were slowly falling back down to the ground. Had everyone been off the plant? Everyone had been off, right? Right? 

Tessa could barely breath as she strained to find them as the vines finally stopped moving. Each beat of her heart felt like an eternity. 

One by one she saw them. One by one they climbed out of the vines. One by one she counted, her breathing only returning to normal when she finally saw all of them. 

They were okay. They were all okay. 

She slumped against the side of the building. They were okay. Damian was okay. Bruce had Poison Ivy in handcuffs. Everything was fine. It was over. 

She felt like she’d just run ten miles. Her entire body felt lifeless. 

She wanted to sleep. For a year. Sleeping for a year sounded amazing. Can someone sleep for a year? 

Maybe. At least a day though. Sleeping throughout all of tomorrow sounded amazing. She could ditch school. Damian could too. They could just watch movies and sleep. 

Damian. 

She sat up straight. 

She was going to kill him. Then bring him back to life so she could kill him again. 

Pushing to her feet she stormed over to the roof access and down to the level below, slammed her finger into the down button for the elevator, and crossed her arms over her chest. 

He walked out there without telling her the truth. He could have told her– _should_ have told her. If he had she wouldn’t have gone out there after him. She wouldn’t have worried so much. 

The elevator dinged open. She stormed in, pressing the close door button a ridiculous amount of times until it finally did. Thank god the elevator was still working. Actually, she probably shouldn’t be in it. She huffed, leaning against a wall. Oh well. At this point, she couldn’t care less. 

Besides, if the elevator decided to break, Robin would probably show up and save her anyway. 

She bit her lip, hard enough that it hurt. 

He’d hidden a whole other life from her. Sure, they’d been dating for a little under two, but they’d been friends for four. _Four months_. And yeah, she could get keeping it a secret at the beginning. Hell, she could even get keeping it a secret right after they started dating. 

But now? She didn’t get it. 

She’d told him everything. About her dad, her mom, her childhood, her trauma. She’d told him all of it. Maybe it was stupid to trust him that much— maybe it was stupid to think he’d return the trust, but she had. 

And all she’d gotten in return was half of the person she’d fallen in love with. 

Because him being Robin? It changed everything. 

He wasn’t just Damian Wayne anymore. He was so much more. He was an entirely different person. He was Robin. And that meant he wasn’t just hers. 

The elevator opened and she stumbled out. She heard them ding closed behind her. 

Not a half second later she saw Damian walk into the building, out of his costume and back into his suit, hair messy, covered in dirt, and with a line of red across his forehead. 

She ran. She didn’t even think about it. She just ran. 

Tessa slammed into him so hard Damian stumbled back a step. 

“Hey,” Damian said, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on top of hers. 

A sob slipped out of her throat instead of an answer. 

He just held her tighter. 

“I’m alright,” he said, brushing back her hair. “I told you I’d come back.” 

She buried her face in his chest and sucked in a shaking breath. 

She wanted to scream. Wanted to yell at him until her voice was hoarse for going out there, for not telling her, for keeping this kind of secret. Wanted to let every bit of anger out into the world because he didn’t trust her. 

Damian didn’t trust her. That’s what it came down to. He didn’t trust her enough to tell her the truth. 

And she wanted to me mad. She really, truly did. But she couldn’t. 

She couldn’t be mad at him for being Robin, not when he helped so many people. Not when he saved lives. Not when he was trying to make this hellhole of a city better. 

She couldn’t be mad at him for that. And she hated it. 

“It’s okay, Tess,” he said, rubbing her back. “Everything’s okay.” 

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t because he was going to have to go out there and she’d have to do this all over again. It wasn’t because her knowing didn’t change the fact that he was Robin. 

She wasn’t even mad at him for being Robin. If anything she was proud. Thrilled. Terrified. But not mad. No, she was mad at him for not telling her. Not trusting her. 

And she wanted to say that. She wanted to say every single thought she’d had in the elevator, but every time she tried, all she could do was sob. 

She wanted to ask him why he didn’t trust her, but she knew. Goddamn it, she could understand why he hadn’t told her. Why he still hadn’t. Not on the roof, and not now. 

Because if it’d been her secret, she wouldn’t have trusted him. Not with something that big. That life changing. If the information got into the wrong hands, it’d end everything. It’d put everyone he loved at risk. And no matter how much he cared about her, that wouldn’t change. 

She understood. She understood, and that’s what she hated most. 

Because it made everything better and worse. 

And _goddamn it_ she wanted to stop crying. 

Guess she wanted a whole bunch of things right now. 

Too bad she couldn’t have any of them. 

Because she wouldn’t say anything. As soon as she’d seen him, as soon as he’d started talking, and soon as she’d breathed him in again, she’d known she wouldn’t say any of her thoughts. Not about trust, or him being Robin, or understanding. 

Because it wasn’t her choice. It was his. And if he wasn’t ready to tell her, then she wouldn’t make him. She wouldn’t force him to give her a part of himself that he wasn’t ready to. 

Because when it was the other way around, Damian has never once forced her to tell him something she wasn’t ready to. When they talked about her childhood, when they talked about her dad, when they talked about her future, he never pried if she wasn’t ready to share. 

Maybe this was different. Maybe it was on an entirely different level. Maybe she was wrong. But she wouldn’t force him to tell her. She wouldn’t take his choice away. Wouldn’t put him in a position that would end up with one or both of them hurt. 

But this hurt. Not saying anything. Fuck, it _hurt_. 

She could handle it. Deal with it. Suffer with it. If it meant he wouldn’t hurt anymore than he already was, she’d do it over and over again. 

Letting out a shaking breath, Tessa pulled back and met his eyes. “Where are you hurt?” 

“I’m fi–” 

“Where, Damian,” she said, reaching up and brushing his hair out of his face so she could get a better look at the cut on his forehead. “Besides this.” 

“It’s fine, Tess, really,” he said, gently taking her wrists and pulling them away from his face. “I’m more worried abo–” 

“If you say,” she said, voice shaking, “that you’re more worried about me, after you just ran out there and had who knows what happen to you, we’re done.” Damian’s eyes widened a fraction. “I’m not playing around right now, Damian. Where. Are. You. Hurt?” 

Tessa lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. She might be willing to keep his secret, but like hell she’d let him walk around hurt. If he thought he could get away with keeping whatever injuries he had a secret, he had another thing coming. She’d had more than enough secrets for one day. 

He met her gaze. Held it. Then let out a long sigh. 

“Shallow cut on my left calf, stab wound in my right shoulder, most likely a minor concussion, and at least two bruised ribs with one possibly fractured.” 

She blinked. Swallowed hard. 

She didn’t want to know how many times he’d had the same injuries for him to list them so casually. For him to _know_ what they were without a doctor. The idea of him being hurt like this on a regular basis made her feel sick. 

“Alright,” she said, taking his hand. “Alright, we’re going to one of those nice paramedics outside and they’re going to patch you up.” 

He probably had someone to do that for him. Someone who knew about his family’s secret and fixed them up after fights went wrong so they didn’t have to go to the hospital and expose their identities. 

God, this was insane. Just the idea of that– the fact she could even rationally think of something like that and have it to make sense was insane. 

To his credit, Damian didn’t protest. He just let her drag him outside to one of the paramedics who wasn’t doing anything. 

“Can you look at him?” she asked the man, tapping him on his shoulder. “He thinks his rib might be fractured and needs stitches on his shoulder, as well as a possible concussion.” 

“I don’t need–” 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, flipping open the first aid kit besides him and pulled out a small flashlight. “I’m going to check for the concussion first. If you could just look straight ahead please.” 

Damian did, glaring a hole into whatever object he decided to look at. 

After a minute the man clicked the flashlight off and said, “You have a minor concussion that should be healed within two weeks. Try to stay off screens and in darkened areas. If at any point you find yourself becoming nauseous or dizzy, or if any of your current symptoms worsen, go to your doctor for a reevaluation.” 

He nodded. 

The man’s eye flicked across his face. “Shirt off, young man. I need a to look at your ribs.” 

Damian pressed his lips. Tessa frowned. That was his protesting face. Why wouldn’t he want to take his shirt off? The man was trying to help. 

His eyes flicked to her. Assessing. Why was he assessing her? 

He sighed through his nose. Then took off his shirt. 

The breath was knocked out of her. 

There were so many scars. Too many to even count. 

Tears blurred her vision as she stared at them. She didn’t know where to look. At the giant white line that cut across his stomach. The puckered skin on his shoulder. The dozens of little white lines scattered everywhere. The thick white scar that was as fat as her finger. 

He was covered in them, the white scars standing out starkly against brown skin. She could see each one clearly. See each place where he’d been hurt. See the physical marks from him being Robin. 

A constellation map of pain left on his skin. 

And goddamn it, she wanted to beg him to never go out there again. 

“Your ribs look like they’re just bruised, but you should head to the hospital and get them x-rayed just to make sure,” the paramedic said. “I can stitch up your shoulder here, if you’d like, or you can go to the hospital and they can give you something for the pain beforehand.” 

Damian met her eyes. “Just do it.” 

Tessa saw the paramedic pull out the stuff he needed. Saw him clean Damian’s shoulder. Saw him stick the needle into his skin. 

Damian didn’t even flinch. He just kept watching her. 

She hurt. Her chest fucking _hurt_. 

She thought she knew pain. She thought she understood how much someone could take before they broke. She knew what to expect from bruises and breaks and cuts, but what Damian was doing? The way it looked like he barely felt the pain? That wasn’t normal. 

She _knew_ how much stitches hurt. She’d had enough in her lifetime to know the pain. To get used to it. But no matter how many times she’d gotten them, she could never stop herself from flinching and hissing at the pain. 

How familiar with pain did someone have to be to barely feel something like this? 

Tessa closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to even imagine the kind of pain Damian had been in to deal with this the way he was. 

“Alright,” the paramedic said, taping a piece of gauze over the stitches. “You’ll need to come to the hospital in a week so we can check up on that, but for now you should get a sling so you don’t move it and pull the stitches. Keep it clean, and we shouldn’t have any problems.” 

Damian nodded, gingerly pulling his shirt back on. 

“Thank you,” Tessa said. 

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile. “Now give me your arm. That cut needs to be cleaned.” 

Tessa looked down and saw her right arm stained with blood. She didn’t even remember getting cut. Shaking her head, she handed the paramedic her arm, clenching her teeth when he put disinfectant on it before putting a big Band-Aid over the entire thing. 

“Alright, you two are good to go,” he said, smoothing out the Band-Aid. Meeting her gaze, he said, “Keep an eye on him. I have a feeling he won’t listen to the resting part very well.” 

A ghost of a smile twitched over her lips. “You have no idea.” 

Turning around Tessa walked away. Away from the people, the ambulances, the mess. From all the pain and fear that was washed over the area. She didn’t stop walking until she was far enough away that she could breathe in the air without dust filling her lungs. Only then did she let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. 

Damian took her hand, tugging on it slightly. She looked up. 

“Is this the part where you yell at me for being an idiot?” he asked, the smile on his face forced. 

Her heart cracked a little. 

She closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “No.” 

Damian frowned. “No?” 

“No,” she said, shaking her head and leaning into his side. 

“You’re not mad?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 

“I’m about every other emotion besides mad right now,” Tessa whispered. 

She felt Damian tense. Knew his face was that weird mix of carefully blank and worried. Knew he was struggling to find something to say. 

“Can I do anything?” Damian asked. 

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “No.” 

Damian sighed. “Alright. If that changes, I’m here.” 

Tears blurred her vision as she nodded into his chest. 

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “Let’s go home. We could both use the rest.” 

Going home… she’d break. She could already feel herself slowly breaking. Being in her house would only make everything worse. 

“Can I stay at your house?” she mumbled. 

And she wanted to stay around Damian. Wanted the reminder that he was here and he was alright. 

“Of course,” Damian said, placing a kiss on top of her head. 

They took a cab. With his car buried somewhere under all the vines, it was doubtful that he’d get it back at all. Even if he did, it’d probably be ruined. 

She couldn’t help the little twinge in her chest at the thought. Guess that was just another thing that tonight had changed. A small thing on a list of much bigger ones. 

It was funny how the small things like that hurt just as much as the big ones. 

Tessa leaned her head against the glass and watched Gotham pass by. Damian’s city. 

Because Damian was Robin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! I updated on time! 
> 
> I know this chapter wasn't what you all thought it was going to be, but this is how I always intended to write it. I've been playing with this scene in my head for months and I'm actually really happy with how it turned out, and now we can really reach that climax that I'm going to be climbing towards next. I promise, it'll be worth it. 
> 
> Thank you to Mystik_Owl yet again for being an amazing beta. You make these chapters better than they would be otherwise. 
> 
> And, before I forget, Happy New Year. I hope this year is better than the last one for each one of you.
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments and feel free to message me on my [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/) :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after

Waking up in the Manor wasn’t weird anymore. With how many times she’d fallen asleep watching movies here, she’d more or less been given one of the guest rooms. So when Tessa woke up, stiff and sore and aching, her body feeling like it’d taken a beating, she wasn’t surprised to see the familiar room around her. 

What she was surprised to see was the Advil and glass of water on the table next to the bed. 

Tessa sat up, groaning at the pain that shot through her muscles. It’d been months since she’d been in this much pain. She could confidently say that she didn’t miss this. At all. She would, in fact, be okay with never feeling like this again. 

Letting out a long breath, she grabbed the Advil and downed the two tablets, chasing them down with a swig of water before collapsing back into bed. 

She didn’t want to move yet. Partially because she wanted to give the Advil some time to kick in – actually, she needed to make sure to thank Damian for having the foresight to leave some for her, wandering around the manor to look for them sounded awful – and partially because she needed a second to breathe before she went out there. 

Coming back to the Manor last night and seeing them… she hadn’t planned on how weird it would be. Looking at them and seeing the bats was a weird trip that her overly-exhausted mind hadn’t been able to handle, and she’d all but ran to this room claiming that she needed sleep. 

She couldn’t do that anymore. She’d have to go out there and see them— see all their cuts and bruises and know exactly where they came, yet pretend that she didn’t know anything. Because it was their secret to tell her, and they hadn’t yet, so she had to keep their secret without letting them know she knew their secret. 

God, that was so complicated. Maybe she should just stay in here all day. 

Her stomach grumbled. Because of course it did. 

She rubbed her hands over her face and groaned. 

With a sigh Tessa stood up, pulling on Damian’s sweatshirt before stumbling out of the room and trying not to wince at how much her legs hurt. She hadn’t even done that much when she was running around looking for him. Her legs should definitely not feel like death. 

She reached the top of the stairs. Nope. She didn’t want to walk downstairs. Stairs were going to hurt. 

Maybe she could slide down the railing. She’d probably fall, though that might hurt less than walking down the stairs. 

“What’d the stairs do to you?” 

Tessa looked to her left and found Dick walking towards her, a smile on his face. 

Dick, who was Nightwing. Who had a yellow and green bruise on his cheek. Who was looking at her like everything was still the same. 

It wasn’t– but it also was. God, that made no sense. But it was true. Because she now knew why he had the bruises and where he disappeared to at night, but he was still Dick. 

He was still the same person who teased her and showered Damian with too much physical affection. That hadn’t changed. And it wouldn’t. Because he’d always been Nightwing, and her knowing or not knowing didn’t change who he was at his core. 

So Tessa jutted out her lower lip and said, “My body hurts.” 

Dick rolled his eyes. Then turned around and held out his arms. “Come on. I’ll give you a piggyback ride to the kitchen.” 

She tensed. Was that smart? What if he was hurt? She didn’t want to hurt him more, but he wouldn’t offer if he was hurt, right? Wait, no– of course he would. No one in their family knew how to take care of themselves. 

Dick looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “Come on, Tess. I’m hungry.” 

She pressed her lips together. Sighing through her nose, she gently climbed onto his back and said, “You’re the best.” 

“Oh, I know,” Dick said, adjusting her slightly before starting to walk down the stairs. “So how are you feeling? Besides the whole body-hurting thing.” 

“Pretty okay,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“No nightmares?” 

“Nope,” she said. “I think I was too tired to dream.” 

“Fair enough,” he said, adjusting her again when he reached the bottom of the stairs. “If that changes though, or you need someone to talk to about what happened, I’m always here.” 

Tessa swallowed hard. She didn’t need to talk about yesterday. At least, not in the way he thought she did. Not in the way that he probably did, him and the rest of his family. 

What went through their heads during something like that? She would be terrified. If she was out there, actually fighting something like that, she wouldn’t be able to move. Maybe they couldn’t think about that. Maybe if they did, they’d freeze up just like she would. Maybe the only way for them to fight the people in the rogues gallery was to shove everything else away and deal with the fear and the pain after everything was done. 

Maybe they had the same mindset that she did when her dad used to beat her, where all they can think of is fixing whatever problem was right in front of you. Everything else – the pain, the fear, the worry, even your goddamn thoughts – became secondary. There was only you and the problem and the solution you had to find. 

Throat tight, she said, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Dick said, walking into the kitchen. 

Cass and Damian looked up from their plates. 

“What are you doing?” Damian asked, eyebrows pulled together. 

She looked over Dick’s shoulder at him. At Robin. 

God, that was still so weird. 

“She was sore so I carried her down here,” Dick said, setting her on top of the counter then walking towards the fridge. “What you wanna eat, Tess?” 

“What is there?” she asked, sliding off the counter with a wince. 

Damian’s head immediately spun towards her. Frowning, he asked, “Did you take the Advil?” 

“Yes,” she said, lips tightening. “Did you take yours, since your ribs are bruised?” 

Damian’s frown deepened, his eyes scanning her face. She looked right back, at the cut on his forehead held together with two butterfly bandages and a yellow and green bruise that had apparently appeared on his jaw sometime last night. 

“It looks like Alfred made pancakes,” Dick said. Giving Damian one last look she flicked her eyes to Dick. “But if you don’t want that there’s toast, cereal, and oatmeal.” 

“Pancakes are fine.” 

“Two or three?” 

“Two, please.” 

Dick flopped two pancakes on a plate and stuck them in the microwave. 

“So is no one going to work today?” Tessa asked, looking around the room. 

“Alfred said we all needed to take the day off,” Dick said, leaning against the countertop. “Since we all like living, we decided to listen.” Dick looked at his siblings. “Where’s Tim?” 

“Sleeping,” Cass said, shoving a bite of pancake in her mouth. 

Dick blinked. “Timmy’s sleeping? Actually sleeping?” 

Cass nodded. 

“How many hours?” 

Cass glanced at a clock. “Eight.” 

Tessa’s mouth dropped open as the microwave beeped. 

Tim was sleeping? For eight hours? She was pretty sure she hadn’t even heard of him sleeping more than two consecutive hours the entire time she’d been in the manor. 

He must be exhausted. After yesterday fight with Poison Ivy, she wasn’t surprised. He’d fought her for something like three hours. They all deserved to sleep. Everyone in this room should go back to sleep. 

Not that she could say that. 

“If any of you wake him up, you’re dead,” Dick said, handing her the plate of pancakes. 

“Who aren’t we supposed to wake up?” Jason asked, walking into the kitchen with a yawn. 

“Tim,” Damian said, still looking at her. She was pretty sure he hadn’t stopped since she walked in. 

She ignored him, walking to the table and taking a seat next to Cass. 

“Timbers is sleeping?” Jason said, opening a cabinet and pulling out a bowl and a box of Rice Krispies. “Guess there is such a thing as miracles.” 

Tessa snorted. Jason looked at her and winked. 

“So what’s the plan for today?” Jason asked around a mouthful of food. “You know, since we’re under house arrest.” 

“Movie,” Cass said. 

“I think we should do the boys’ makeup,” Steph said, walking into the room and plopping into the chair next to Tessa. 

“Hey, Steph,” she said. 

“Hey,” she said with a smile. Then grabbed a random fork and started eating Tessa’s pancakes. 

She hid a snort, shifting the plate a little closer to her. 

“Really Steph? There’s more right over there,” Dick said, swatting at her as he took the seat next to Damian. 

“But these are right here,” she whined, batting at his hand. 

Cass rolled her eyes and stood up, coming back with a plate full of pancakes and setting it in front of Steph. 

“I love you,” Steph said, grabbing the syrup. They all watched as she stared at it with a slightly maniac look as she dumped half the bottle on top of her pancakes, effectively drowning them. 

Laughing, Tessa took her plate back and started eating her pancakes again. 

It was good to see them like this after yesterday. Good to see that they could still smile and laugh and be happy. 

“Wait, what are we doing today?” Jason asked. 

“Your makeup,” Steph said, syrup dripping down her chin. Cass didn’t even look as she handed her a napkin. 

“You sure you want to do that, Blondie?” Jason asked, pointing his spoon at her. “You know I’m going to look more beautiful than you.” 

“In your dreams, hot shot,” Steph said, flicking syrup at him. 

Damian and Dick got hit instead. They just closed their eyes for a second and took in a deep breath before continuing to eat their food. 

“I think they boys should do our makeup and we do theirs, and whoever does it better wins,” Tessa said, using her fork to eat the syrup leftover on her plate. 

“Yes,” Cass said. 

“I call Jason!” Steph screamed. 

“Why.” 

All their heads spun towards the door, where Tim stumbled into the room with his eyes only half open and his hair sticking up in all directions. He rubbed his eyes, looked around at all of them, then headed straight for the coffee pot. “It’s so early.” 

“It’s almost noon.” 

Tim blinked. Then brought his mug of coffee to his face and started drinking it. And drinking it. And drinking it. 

“Tim, breathe.” 

Tim brought the mug away from his face and glared at Dick. “I’m fine.” 

“Okay,” Jason said, standing up. Grabbing Tim’s mug, he refilled it with coffee before putting it at the table, effectively making Tim follow it and take a seat. Then he went back and grabbed two pancakes and set them in front of Tim, taking the mug of coffee and saying, “Eat, and then you’ll get this back.” 

“Or I could just go get more,” Tim said, looking at the mug in Jason’s hand. 

“You could, but you’d have to make a new pot since I dumped the rest out.” 

“Monster.” 

“Eat your food, Timbers.” 

Glaring, Tim grabbed a pancake with his hands and shoved a good third of it into his mouth. 

Looking satisfied, Jason sat down next to Steph, cradling Tim’s coffee. 

Tessa hid her snort. The all mighty Bats; able to defeat the worst this city has to offer, but can’t take care of themselves. It was ridiculous. 

Pancake in one hand, Tim pulled his phone out and started scrolling through something. Everyone else fell into conversation, with Steph and Jason bickering about makeup while Dick and Cass signed something to each other. 

Which meant that she finally had to meet Damian’s gaze. 

Taking a deep breath, Tessa looked at him. 

She could see it on his face. The questions. The ones about why she’d left the room last night, about why she had barely looked at him since she walked in, about why even now she looked ready to run – because she knew she couldn’t wipe that look off her face. She knew she looked just as worried as she felt. 

She couldn’t hide it. Not the worry he’d get hurt. Not the worry he didn’t trust her. Not the worry she would give up his secret. There was so much pumping through her body that she felt like she was going to drown. 

And he was seeing all of it. Maybe not the reasons, but the worry. All because she was too weak to hide it from him. 

Damian’s eyes flicked across her face before finally settling on her eyes. She swallowed hard. He was going to say something. Was going to ask her about this the next time they were alone. She could feel it in her bones. 

She expected to see it on his face. Instead, all she saw was her own worry reflected. 

“Have you guys looked at the tabloids yet?” Tim asked, the second pancake now in his hand. 

“No, I haven’t had time,” Steph said. “Is there something interesting? Please say there’s something interesting.” 

“I don’t know why you read that shit,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s all lies anyway.” 

“But interesting lies,” Steph said, tapping his nose. Looking back at Tim, she said, “So what’s today’s gossip?” 

“Well,” Tim said, swallowing the last bite of pancake. “Apparently, the tabloids think Tessa’s cheating on Damian.” 

“What!” 

“That’s ridiculous–” 

“She would never–” 

“Tessa! How dare yo–” 

“With who?” Damian asked, voice low. 

Tim looked at him, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Robin.” 

And goddamnit, Tessa couldn’t help it – she burst out laughing. 

\--------------------------------------------- 

Damian stared at his girlfriend as she laughed so hard she nearly fell out of her seat. He half debated standing up and walking over to make sure she wouldn’t. That, and the fact it looked like she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. 

Dick flicked his eyes between him and Tessa. Is she okay? 

Damian rolled his eyes. Yes. 

Jason pressed his lips together and raised an eyebrow. Does she know? 

Damian narrowed his eyes. No. 

Cass looked at him with wide eyes. You sure? 

Damian looked at Tessa. She was still laughing, though she was now struggling to stop. But why was she laughing? She couldn’t know. He hadn’t told her, and he’d been careful when he’d seen her yesterday. There’s no way she could have figured it out. 

Flicking his eyes back to Cass he shook his head. 

He watched the rest of them exchange doubtful looks. Glaring at them, he asked, “Why would they think that?” 

“There’s pictures of her on a rooftop with him during yesterday’s attack,” Tim said, flipping around his phone for the rest of them to see. 

Sure enough, there they were. Him swinging her up onto the roof of Wayne Enterprises. Him holding her bridal style. Her sticking her face close to his as she demanded him to take her back. Them arguing, arms waving in the air. Her watching him swing away. 

He had to admit– they did look pretty incriminating. Not quite dating level, but definitely a something level. Which there shouldn’t be. Because Tessa had never met Robin before. Yet in these pictures it looked like they’d known each other for months. Shit. 

Had he really been that obvious? Or was this some sort of fluke? Was this just Tessa in a panic? Was that why they looked so bad? Why she was so close? Why did she stare after him like that? 

“Soooooo,” Jason said, reaching across Steph to poke Tessa’s shoulder. “Got something you want to share with the class?” 

Tessa sucked in a breath to cut off her laugh, only to have it burst out again when she breathed out. They all watched as she pushed her plate forward before putting her head on the table, shoulders still shaking with laughter. 

“Tess?” he said, reaching across and laying his hand on her shoulder. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” she gasped, voice muffled. Then continued to laugh. 

Tim stared at her. “Should we take a blood sample or…?” 

“I’m fine,” Tessa said. Letting out a shaking breath she sat up, still smiling but no longer laughing, and repeated, “I’m fine.” 

“Great,” Steph said. “Wanna tell us why you lost your shit?” 

“Oh,” she said, a laugh slipping past her lips. “Uh, that.” 

“That,” Cass said, eyes scanning Tessa. Damian didn’t know whether he wanted to tell her to stop or to share what she saw. “Share?” 

“Yeah,” Tessa said, grabbing her fork and fiddling with it. “See, the thing is, that was the first time I met Robin, so there’s no way we could be dating.” 

“But that doesn’t explain why–” 

“Can we just, back up for a second?” Dick cut in. “How did you even meet him? Damian said you were at Wayne Enterprises the entire time the fight was going on.” 

Damian pressed his lips together. Right. None of them were supposed to know that Robin had saved her. He shouldn’t know anything about the incident. At all. He’d been somewhere else for the entire fight. 

Tessa bit her lip. “Well, I kinda left to find Damian… cause I was worried…” 

“You left?” Damian said between gritted teeth – not because he was mad, but because he hated he had to say those words. Hated he had to lie. Again. 

“Yeah,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I heard that one of the buildings collapsed and couldn’t just sit on my ass anymore, so I left to go look for you. A vine grabbed me and Robin saved me and brought me up to that roof. Are you mad?” 

Her face was twisted up. Wary. That was what she looked like when she was wary and judging a situation. And fuck it, he wasn’t mad. Hadn’t been mad since she’d told him on that roof that she’d left to help him. 

He reached across the table and took her hand squeezing it gently. “No, I’m not mad. But I do want to know why you laughed so hard at the idea of dating Robin.” 

Tessa grinned at him, something sparking in her eyes. “Well, you see, Robin’s an asshole.” 

Damian blinked. 

Everyone else burst out laughing. 

“What?” Tessa said, looking around the room and grinning. “He is.” 

That only made everyone laugh harder. 

Because she thought Robin was… an asshole. Except he was Robin. So she was calling him an asshole— but she didn’t know that, because she didn’t know he was Robin. But everyone else in the room did. Which meant they were laughing at him. 

“Please, Tess,” Jason said. “Do tell us why Robin is an asshole.” 

“He just is,” she said, crossing her arms. “He saved me and then started lecturing me about how I shouldn’t be out there like he fucking knew me or something–” half the room snorted. “–and then started bossing me around, telling me to go inside and some other bullshit.” 

“He definitely sounds like an ass,” Tim said. He turned his head towards Damian, a shit eating grin on his face. 

Damian didn’t realize he’d grabbed a knife until Dick had deftly taken it out of his hand. 

He hadn’t meant to be an ass. He’d just… freaked out. Dick had pointed her out and he’d gone blind with terror. He’d barely even realized what he was doing until they were on the roof and she was shoving him away. 

It’d been Poison Ivy. Poison Ivy, who was attacking Gotham on Valentine’s Day because everyone killed plants to give to their loved ones. Poison Ivy, who was furious. Just seeing Tessa in the middle of it, so close to being hurt, had made him snap. 

So maybe he’d been an ass – fine, he could admit that. But why did this conversation have to take place in front of everyone? They were never going to let him live this down. 

Not to mention the fact that when he did finally tell Tessa, this was going to be her experience with Robin. 

“So you’d never date Robin?” Steph asked, a smile on her face that said she was enjoying this way too much. 

Tessa scrunched up her face. “No way. Not unless he did a major 180.” 

“Well,” Steph said with a clap. “Now that we’ve got that all cleared up… makeup?” 

“Makeup?” Tim asked. 

“Boys vs Girls,” Cass said. 

“That doesn’t help.” 

“I do your makeup, you do mine,” Cass said. “Whoever looks better, wins.” 

“Fine,” Tim said. “But I need more coffee.” 

“Knock yourself out,” Steph said, “Tessa, you’re paired with Damian. Dick can go find his girlfriend that he forgot to tell us about and join us in the movie room.” 

“Really?” Dick asked. “You’re still not over this?” 

“Nope,” Steph said with a too wide grin. “Now go find her.” 

Dick groaned but stood up and walked out of the room. 

The rest of them followed, Steph and Cass leaving to grab all of their makeup. Quietly, Damian fell into step with Tessa and took her hand. “So you do know I’m going to win this, right?” 

“Oh yeah,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen you do Cass’s makeup flawlessly before, so the chances of me winning are slim.” 

Damian laughed. “Glad you know how to lose gracefully.” 

She slipped her hand out of his, turning so she was walking backwards as she grinned. “Who said anything about losing gracefully?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, can we all pretend it's Saturday? Yes? Alright great.
> 
> I hope everyone liked this chapter, after all the drama of last couple chapters I felt like there should be some fluff, so here's some fluff. 
> 
> Big thanks to Mystk_Owl as always for beta-ing this chapter and making it the best it can be. Luv ya.
> 
> And as always, talk to me in the comments. They legit make my day :)


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin visits Tessa

Two days. It took all of two days before another rogue attacked the city. 

Damian clenched his jaw as he dropped into the thick of it, katana drawn. He sliced up, and brown sludge coated his arm. 

He hated fighting Clayface. It always ended with everyone covered in sludge and smelling like shit. It wasn’t even a hard fight, not when it was just him out here on the edge of the city before he’d had time to plan anything. This fight was utterly ridiculous. 

Sludge shot at him. Damian rolled, coming up and throwing a batarang at his chest. It exploded, clay spraying everywhere and making him stumble backwards. 

He’d been with Tessa. As a makeup date for Valentines. They were going to go to dinner, and watch whatever stupid movie she decided she wanted to watch, and have fun. It was supposed to be a night for just them. And now he was here. Batman dropped behind Clayface and shot a taser. Batgirl, Black Bat, and Red Robin did the same, 

until electricity was surging through Clayface and he dropped to his knees. 

Damian walked forward and aimed his taser directly at his head. 

A moment later, Clayface dropped face first onto the ground, unconscious. 

“Are we done?” he asked, crossing his arms. 

Steph walked towards him and poked his cheek. “What’s got you all grouchy?” 

He swatted her hand away. “None of your business, Batgirl.” 

“Hey,” Father said, “Knock it off. Both of you. I know your date got interrupted but you can still be nice. And you– don’t antagonize him.” 

“Sure thing, _Dad_ ,” Steph said, giving a two-fingered salute. 

Father ran a hand down his face. Damian couldn’t help the vicious smile that spread across his face. Serves him right. If he had to be here instead of with Tessa, he could be just as annoyed as he was. 

A hand touched his shoulder. Damian looked behind him and saw Cass. She signed, “Go.” 

“No way,” Steph said. “He doesn’t get to just leave and let us haul his ass back to Arkham.” 

Damian just stuck out his tongue and walked over to his motorcycle. Swinging a leg over he started the engine. 

“Be home before two,” Father said. “And don’t–” 

“–tell her where I actually was,” Damian said, pulling on his helmet. “Yeah, I know.” 

He knew the words sounded bitter. He also didn’t care. Flipping down the eye-shield on the helmet, Damian revved the engine and headed for Tessa’s house. 

Quietly Damian pulled into Tess’s neighborhood and parked a few blocks away. He pulled off his helmet and put it on the back of the bike, grabbing the bag slung over the back– then put it back down and instead climbed onto the nearest roof, letting his uniform blend him into the shadows. 

He picked his way from roof to roof until he was sitting on the same roof he always sat on when he went to check on her, the one directly across the street with a chimney that he liked to lean against. Rolling his shoulders he sat down, letting his head fall back. T

essa’s light was still on, and he could just see her sitting on her bed. Her back was too him, her knees pulled to her chest with a book balancing on them. She’d changed out of the beautiful black dress that she’d worn for tonight, her hair now tied up in a messy bun with a sweatshirt and those ridiculously small shorts she liked to wear when she slept. He couldn’t help the smile that twitched across his face. 

In some ways, he liked to see her this way more. When she wasn’t dressed up or trying to look nice and just being herself. It always looked like she was more relaxed. More at peace. 

He watched her shift, putting her book down next to her. She stood up and stretched, walking towards the window. She opened it and leaned her elbows on the frame, her eyes gazing across the neighborhood. 

And landed directly on him. 

She was looking at him. Not at the house, or the street, or the sky. _Him_. 

How the hell did she even see him? He should be practically invisible up here. She shouldn’t be able to see him, not without training. It shouldn’t be possible. But she was looking at him. She saw him. 

A smirk slid across her face and she raised an eyebrow. And goddamn, if that wasn’t a challenge, he didn’t know what was. 

Standing up, he shot his grapple at her house and let it pull him towards her. He landed on her roof and flipped upside down, letting himself hang directly in front of her. 

“Hi,” she said, lips pressed together. 

She was trying not to laugh. He could see it on her face. What was so funny? He wasn’t – he was hanging upside down. Damian sighed through his nose and crossed his arms. He chose this. He’d die on this hill, or whatever the hell it was that Tim was always saying. 

“How’d you see me?” 

“Why were you watching me?” 

He was almost annoyed. Almost. Instead he felt his lips twitch. “I wanted to make sure you were alright after Thursday.” 

She tilted her head. “Do you always come check up on the people you save?” 

“Only the ones who yell at me,” he said. 

Tessa laughed, and the smile that he’d been fighting finally won out. 

“You know,” she said. “I wasn’t sure that Robin could smile.” 

“Just because I don’t smile doesn’t mean I can’t.” 

Tessa smiled, adjusting herself on the window frame. Her shoulder pressed into one side, her arms crossed over her chest, an infuriating smile on her lips. He wanted to kiss her. 

Damian closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He couldn’t kiss her, because she didn’t know it was him. To her he was just Robin, and if Robin kissed her that’d be wrong. She’d be cheating on him with himself– which might just be the strangest sentence he’d ever thought. 

“Your face is turning red.” 

He opened his eyes. “That’s what happens when you hang upside down for extended periods of time.” 

“So are you going to keep doing it or…?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, considering I want to talk to you for a little longer, I think I’ll suffer.” 

Tessa rolled her eyes and turned, walking back into her room. Damian frowned. What was she– why was she putting on shoes? 

He watched as she walked back to the window and held her arms out. “Pull me up.” 

He blinked. “What?” 

“Pull me up,” she said, shaking her arms. “If we’re going to keep talking we might as well both be comfortable.” 

“You trust me not to drop you?” 

“You caught me in midair and then left me on top of a building. I think you can pull me up onto the roof.” 

That was… a fair point. Taking a deep breath he grabbed her arms and pulled her onto the roof. 

When she was sitting on the edge, feet dangling over the edge in those fuzzy boots she loved with her legs bare, she looked at him and said, “You know, the real question you should have asked was if I trust you enough to sit up here with you?” 

He met her gaze and raised a brow. “Do you?” 

She looked down at her feet, a smile playing across her lips. “I don’t know yet.” 

His hand twitched, to take hers, to take of his mask, to brush the hair out of her face– he didn’t know. 

“You never did answer if you were okay.” 

She looked at him, and for the first time in a while he couldn’t read the expression on her face. 

Huffing she brushed her hair out of her face. He blinked. That was his sweatshirt. His _Robin_ sweatshirt. The one that Dick had gotten him for Christmas. She was wearing his Robin sweatshirt. He didn’t even know when she’d taken it. 

“I’m fine,” she said, and his head snapped up. “A little bruised but besides that everything’s normal.” 

He nodded. That’s what she’d told him. Not that she’d necessarily tell Robin something different. 

“You know,” she said, looking up at him again. “I never did thank you. So, thank you.” 

“You don’t need to thank me.” 

“I know,” she said, smiling at him. “But I want to.” 

He heart skipped a beat in his chest. Change the topic. He had to change the topic. If he didn’t he was going to kiss her and this was going to turn into a giant mess of a night, more so than it already was, so he need to– 

“Did your boyfriend turn out to be okay?” he asked. And cringed internally. 

Of all the things he could have switched the topic too, he chose that. 

Tessa looked at him, stifling a laugh. “He’s fine. A little banged up, but nothing too serious. Though he should be resting for the next couple weeks.” 

He fought the instinct to wince. He’d promised Tessa that he’d take it easy. Going on patrol wasn’t taking it easy. Not by a long shot. 

“That’s good,” he forced himself to say. “Resting is important.” 

Tessa looked at him an raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know what that word is?” 

He scoffed. “Of course I do.” 

“Do you ever do it?” 

Damian paused. “On occasion.” 

“So, no,” she said, leaning back on her hands. 

He got a clear shot of her sweatshirt again. Smirking, he asked, “So you’re a fan.” 

She looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What?” 

“Your sweatshirt,” he said, nodding at it. 

She looked down at her chest. And frowned. “I forgot I was even wearing this.” 

“It’s okay, there’s no reason to be embarrassed.” 

He felt a sharp sting in his arm. He stared at her. She’d hit him. Tessa had actually hit him. 

“Of course there’s no reason to be embarrassed,” she said, eyes sparking. “The sweatshirt’s my boyfriend’s, actually. He’s the one who has a _thing_ for Robin.” 

Damian pressed his lips together. He couldn’t… _say_ anything to that. How the hell did someone respond to the idea that they had a thing for themselves? They couldn’t. That was the answer. It wasn’t possible. 

Instead he let silence fall. He looked out straight, letting the cold night air bite into his face. Tessa must be cold. He’d tried to convince her to stop wearing those shorts in the winter last week, but she’d just walked outside barefoot and stood in the cold for ten minutes before he physically picked her up and brought her back inside so she wouldn’t get frostbite. 

He sighed through his nose. He loved her – and he really, truly did, sometimes so much that it actually hurt – but he doubted he’d ever understand her fully. 

His eyes drifted across the street, to where he’d been sitting earlier. He frowned. Even from up here, it was hard to see into the shadows where he’d been sitting. 

“How did you see me?” 

Tessa blinked, turning her head to look at him. “What?” 

“How did you see me?” he repeated. “When I was on the roof over there.” 

“I felt someone watching me,” she said with a shrug. “I figured it was probably a bird or something– well, I guess I wasn’t _that_ wrong–” 

“Ha ha,” he said. 

She grinned. “It wasn’t hard to trace the feeling back to where you were sitting, and once I saw the weird shape of the shadow it wasn’t hard to figure out who it was watching me.” 

“What if you’d been wrong?” he asked. If it’d been some thief, or someone worse. What if it hadn’t been him sitting on that roof and she’d waved over some stranger? 

“I wasn’t,” she said. 

“But if you were?” he said, leaning towards her slightly. 

She lifted her chin, a corner of her lip lifting up. “Then I guess you’d have to come save me again.” 

He huffed, leaning back onto his hands. He wanted to say that was ridiculous. That she shouldn’t trust him that much. That putting that much faith in someone – someone she didn’t know, as far as she was concerned – wasn’t smart. But… 

But if she was in trouble, if something happened, he wouldn’t stop until he found her. There wasn’t anything in this universe that would stop him from saving her. There wasn’t a length too far when it came to her. 

He loved her. More than anyone. And that… he didn’t know what to do with that. All he knew was that he loved her, and that this… he didn’t want to lie. 

His hands reached up to his mask, his fingertips brushing the bottom. It’d be so simple. All he had to do was peel the mask off his face and everything would be out in the open. 

His hands dropped back into his lap. He’d promised Father he wouldn’t. 

Standing up, Damian looked back down at Tessa and offered her his hand. “I should go.” 

Her brows were pulled together, her eyes flicking across his face. Lips pressed together she put her hand in his. “Okay.” 

He pulled her to her feet, grabbing his grapple and shooting it at the wall right next to her window. “Hold tight.” 

She nodded, stepping close and wrapping her arms around his neck. Checking her grip, he let them fall the short distance to her window, then helped her back inside. When her feet were firmly on the ground, he said, “You alright?” 

“Peachy,” she said. 

He nodded. “Good.” 

He gave her a once over. Then swung himself back onto her roof. 

“Hey.” 

He paused, flipping back upside down so that he could see her. 

“Be careful,” she said, eyebrows pulled together. 

He flashed her a grin. “Always.” 

Without another word he flipped back onto her roof and took off running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! How's life going? I know everyone's starting school again (for those of you still in school) and it sucks but I'm finally getting the hang of writing this story and doing all my school work at the same time, so I hope you're doing well too :)
> 
> Thank you to Mystik_Owl for editing this chapter. I know it's a bit short, but we agreed the pacing of the over all story worked better with this chapter being shorter cause the next part works better if it cuts off here (but hey! I have the next chapter written and it's being edited rn so it'll be up on Saturday!)
> 
> Alright, I feel like I used waaaaay too many exclamation points right now but I woke up like ten minutes ago so don't judge me.
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments or feel free to message me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/). I tend to post random things on there so if you want to follow me and see my obsession of the week you're more than welcome :)


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin goes a little overboard

The media was now official convinced that she was cheating on Damian with Robin. Not that she could blame them. In the past three weeks she’d been seen with Robin not once, not twice, but _seven_ different times. 

Tessa was quite literally _this_ close to punching her boyfriend in the face. 

To be fair, three of the seven times weren’t really his fault. They’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and after Damian made some stupidly logical excuse for why he had to leave, Robin would show up and “save” her from the villain of the day. Not that she’d really needed to be saved in most cases, but she couldn’t exactly yell at him for it. If the situations had been reversed, she would have done the same thing. 

The other four times were entirely on him. She didn’t feel bad for a second about the bad things they were saying about Robin in the press because of it. 

Two of the four times was because he showed up at her house and the media had been there to snap pictures. That’d sent Bruce and Damian into the same stupid fit of rage that people were watching her house and ended with them yelling at the media for it, but she didn’t really expect anything less. Especially considering the two times had been half the times he’d visited her in the middle of the night. 

One time she’d just been out with Steph, walking around downtown and shopping, and Robin had popped out of fucking nowhere and just started talking to them. Steph had laughed so hard she’d had to sit down on the ground. She, on the other hand, had been resisting the urge to strangle him. 

The last time had been yesterday. Yesterday, when she’d had a fucking dentist appointment at like seven o’clock at night, and Robin had trailed her the entire way home. Like a fucking stalker. She hadn’t even noticed until she’d seen the pictures this morning. 

Tessa slammed her fist into the door to Wayne Manor. Half a second later, she found Alfred smiling at her. “Miss Tessa, how are you?” 

The anger in her chest settled slightly. Stepping up onto her tiptoes she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m doing well, Alfred, thanks for asking. How are you?” 

“Quite alright,” he said, stepping aside so she could walk in. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.” 

“Thanks,” she said, walking past him and up the stairs. 

It’d become muscle memory to walk from the door to Damian’s room at this point. It was a good thing, since this entire house was like a goddamn maze and she got lost on a consistent basis. Really, she needed to download an app or something to get around this place. Maybe she could have Babs make her one. 

She didn’t bother to knock. If he didn’t want to give her privacy, she wasn’t going to give him any. 

Titus lifted his head off his hands as she walked in. Damian, on the other hand, wasn’t even in the room. 

Great. All she’d wanted to do was come here to complain about him to himself and screw with his head like he’d been doing to her. That wasn’t too much to ask. Now she was going to have to go on some stupid game of hide and seek. 

Titus rolled over on the bed, his stomach facing towards the ceiling. 

She huffed a laugh, her lips curling up. Walking over she sat down on Damian’s bed and gave Titus the belly rub he was asking for. 

“Do you know where Damian is?” she asked, scrunching her face up at him. “Huh, do you? Because if you did that’d help me out a lot.” 

“I don’t know about him, but I do.” 

Tessa twisted around and found Tim in the door, a mug of coffee in his hands. 

“Great,” she said, standing up with a too-wide smile. “Where is he?” 

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to yell at him?” 

“Not at him,” she said. Not really, anyway. “I’m just mad and he has to listen to me.” 

“Bummer,” Tim said, taking a sip of his coffee. “I would have liked to hear you yell at him.” 

Of course he would. “Where is he?” 

“Library,” Tim said. “Back down the hallway, and when you get to the top of the steps turn left. It’ll be obvious which one it is.” 

“Thanks,” she said patting Tim’s shoulder as she walked past. 

Back down the hall and turning left, Tessa found the library. Damian was curled up in the window seat, sunlight reflecting off his hair and lighting up his skin. He looked so peaceful. 

Walking across the room, Tessa sat down at the other end of the window seat and said, “You know, Robin’s really starting to piss me off.” 

Damian blinked, setting his book down besides him. “What?” 

“Robin is pissing me off,” she said, glaring at him. “Is he not pissing you off?” 

It wasn’t a fair question. Not really. It was also a ridiculous question, one that had Damian scrunching up his face and his eyebrows pulling together. 

“Why would Robin piss me off?” 

“Because he keeps showing up wherever I am,” she said, poking him with her foot. “So much so that everyone thinks I’m cheating on you. I mean, he followed me home last night. That’s kinda creepy.” 

Damian’s eyes widened. “He followed you home?” 

She pressed her lips together. He was good. If she didn’t know, she would totally believe his surprise was genuine – and yeah, sure, maybe the surprise was genuine, but not for the correct reason. If he was surprised, it was because she caught what he was doing. 

“Yeah,” she said, pulling out her phone and shoving it in his face. “I didn’t even realize it until I read this this morning.” 

Damian took her phone, his eyes quickly sweeping over the article. She waited, letting him read all the wonderful things they were saying about him– and by him, she meant Robin, and by wonderful, she meant horrible. 

Not that he didn’t deserve it. She could understand why he’d show up at her house, and understand why he’d go to her first if they were in the middle of an attack, but following her? That’s where he crossed the line. 

Damian handed her back her phone, swallowing hard. “Yeah, that’s not okay.” 

“No shit it’s not okay,” she said, taking her phone. 

“And him showing up at your house in the middle of the night?” 

Tessa blinked. “What?” 

“Is him showing up in the middle of the night alright?” he asked. She glared at him. “What? I didn’t want to say anything, I figured you’d tell me eventually, but since we’re talking about him–” 

“Robin’s harmless,” she said. “And I like talking to him.” 

“So you two are becoming… friends?” 

She stared. They weren’t seriously having this conversation. He didn’t just ask if she was becoming friends with himself. There’s no way. They couldn’t be doing something that ridiculous. 

But Damian was looking at her, waiting for an answer. Hell, he even looked curious. He was being serious. He actually wanted to know if she liked his alter-ego or whatever the hell it was that he thought of Robin as. 

“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms. And just to annoy him, she said, “Got a problem with that?” 

“No,” Damian said. He didn’t even hesitate. “I’m glad you’re making friends.” 

She closed her eyes. He did not just say that. 

But he did. He actually said that. 

She debated giving up the whole charade just to make fun of him for that sentence alone. Like, really, he just said that he was happy she was making friends _with himself_. That was… that was ridiculous. 

She shook her head, opening her eyes. “I hate you.” 

Damian smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers. “Love you too.” 

She rolled his eyes and shoved his face away. 

Laughing, Damian asked, “What do you want to do today?” 

“Well, we never did get to have our makeup Valentine’s date.” 

“You want to go out to dinner?” 

“Not somewhere nice,” she said. “Let’s just get burritos at a hole-in-the-wall place that serves great food. I don’t feel like getting dressed up.” 

Damian frowned. “But that’s not very Valentine’s-y.” 

“Sucks for you,” she said. “We’ll do the whole romantic thing next time.” 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, leaning forward again. “Are you going to plan it?” 

She leaned forward, until their noses were almost brushing. “Is that a challenge?” 

He smirked. “Damn straight it is.” 

“Then I accept,” she said, matching his smirk. “You’re not going to know what hit you.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose. 

She scrunched up her nose. “Ew, gross.” 

Damian rolled his eyes, leaning back and resting his head against the window. 

She stood up, offering him a hand. “Come on, you can explain the math homework to me.” 

“Really?” Damian asked, taking her hand. 

“Yeah, really,” she said, tugging him up. “I completely spaced out on Friday and didn’t learn anything.” 

“Fine,” Damian said. “But you’re paying for dinner.” 

She snorted. “Oh yeah. I’ll definitely pay for my billionaire boyfriend’s dinner. No problem. Totally makes sense.” 

\---------------------------------------------- 

They were ten minutes into him explain the homework when someone knocked on his door. Damian grunted in response, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. It was probably Cass coming to– 

“Tessa, I didn’t know you were here.” 

Damian frowned, twisting around to look at Father. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I haven’t been here for more than thirty minutes,” she said. “All we’ve been doing is math homework.” 

“That sounds terrible.” 

“It really is.” 

“I need to borrow Damian for a bit, but I promise I’ll have him back soon.” 

Damian frowned, eyes flicking over Father’s face. He didn’t find anything. Not that he expected to. 

“Take your time,” Tessa said. “I can suffer by myself for a while.” 

“If you need help, I think Tim’s somewhere in the Manor,” Father said. 

“Oh, he is, I ran into him when I was looking for Damian, but I think I can manage this by myself. I was really just doing this to torture Dami for a bit.” 

Damian turned his head and mock glared at her. She stuck out her tongue. 

“Then I’ll make sure I take even shorter so you can get back to it,” Father said, then looked at him. “I just need your help with something.” 

Warning bells echoed in his head. That either meant he was in trouble, or there was an attack going on. Neither of which were good options. 

“Yeah,” Damian said, standing up. He looked at Tessa. “Be back soon.” 

“Have fun,” she said, already staring back at the homework. 

Shaking his head, he followed Father out of the room. As soon as they were out of earshot, he asked, “Is something wrong?” 

“If you consider being caught by the media with your girlfriend who shouldn’t know your secret a problem, then yes, something is wrong.” 

Damian bit back a groan. Of course this was the conversation they were going to have. He really shouldn’t be surprised. He’d gotten this conversation so many times in the past three weeks that he could probably lecture himself at this point. 

“Can we not have this conversation while Tessa is in the house?” Damian asked, following his father down the stairs and into one of the many living rooms 

“No, because apparently you still haven’t learned,” he said, twisting the hands on the clock to the right place. With a small click, the grand clock popped open. Father walked down the stairs, the echoing of metal chasing after him. 

“It’s not a problem–” 

“It is, Damian, when you were caught by the media following her last night,” Father said, spinning around to face him. “I trained you to be unseen by the worst people in the city, yet you somehow managed to be photographed by not one, not two, but three different media outlets last night. Would you care to explain how that is even possible?” 

Damian lifted his chin. “It’s not a problem.” 

“Yes, it is,” Father said. “All this is showing me is that you’re so distracted by Tessa that you’re letting your guard down and are becoming unaware of your surroundings.” 

“I’m not.” 

“That point is up for debate, it’s a fact. You are distracted.” 

Damian clenched his jaw. Fine. Maybe he was distracted, but he wasn’t when he was in the field. The point didn’t matter. 

“You need to start taking this seriously, Damian,” Father said, placing his hands on his shoulders. “I might be able to look the other way when you go check on her for an hour every night, but I can’t with this. It’s unacceptable.” 

Damian stared at his father. How the hell did he know he went to check on Tessa every night? “Are you following me?” “You’re missing the point.” 

He shoved off his hands. “You are, aren’t you? You really don’t trust me enough?” 

Father let out a huff of air, looking up at the ceiling. Looking back at Damian, he said, “You’re not the only one who checks on Tessa to make sure she’s alright.” 

Damian opened his mouth to argue, but came up short. 

That wasn’t what he thought Father would say. At all. 

“You check on her?” Damian asked, still trying to wrap his head around it. 

“Of course I do,” Father said. “You care about her, which means it’s my job to keep her safe.” 

He… didn’t know how to respond to that. Or how to even begin to process it, because on one hand the idea of Father checking on Tessa was weird, but on the other it made him feel so much better. If Father was watching over her, she was safe. 

“Can we please get back to the point now?” Father asked. 

Damian nodded. 

“You either need to start being smarter, or you need to stop checking on her when you’re in uniform,” Father said. “Not only are you bringing unwanted media attention to her, but if the wrong people see you with her they might try and use her against you.” 

White-hot anger flared in his chest. His hands balled into fists, his face twisting into a snarl. “They can try.” 

“That’s the point,” Father said, putting his hands on his shoulders again. “They _will_ try. They won’t get far, and they won’t hurt her, but _they will try_. And we don’t want them to, because if they try, then others will too, until someone who _can_ hurt her _will_.” 

He clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. 

“Take a deep breath.” 

Damian glared at the ground but forced in a long breath through his nose and out through his mouth. Then another. His muscles started to untense. 

Looking up at Father, he said, “Thank you.” 

He’d needed to hear that. He might hate it, he might fight it, he might deny it, but he needed to hear it. Because it was true. Which meant he had to be smarter or Tessa was going to get hurt— and that wasn’t an option. She’d been hurt enough. 

“You’re welcome,” Father said, squeezing his shoulder. “Now go back up and do your homework.” 

A huffed laugh slipped past his lips. Rolling his eyes, he said, “I’ll do that.” 

“Good,” Father said, “I’d hate to have to ground you.” 

Damian smirked at him as he walked away. “Like you could.” 

“Do I need to remind you of all the times I grounded you when you were a kid?” 

“I’m better than I was.” 

“But not better than me.” 

“Whatever you want to tell yourself, old man?” 

“Old man?” Father said, and Damian could hear the laughter in his voice as he walked up the stairs. “I’m not an old man. I’m still young.” 

Laughing quietly to himself, Damian walked up the rest of the stairs. 

\----------------------------------------------- 

They ended up getting Chinese food at a place Steph suggested. They’d eaten so much, she felt like she could sleep for three days. 

Smiling lazily she turned towards Damian as she stood in the doorway, pushing up onto her toes and kissing him slowly. Pulling away, she said, “Thanks for dinner.” 

“No problem,” he said, kissing her forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yup,” she said, untangling herself from his arms. “I’ll text you when I want you to pick me up.” 

“I’ll wait for it,” he said, then turned and walked away. 

She shook her head, watching him leave. That line was so cheesy. God. 

Shaking her head again, she turned back around and unlocked her door. Throwing her keys in the bowl she kept on the table by the door, she walked into the living room. 

And froze. 

Fear, unbridled and all-consuming, crashed into her. Everything inside of her was screaming to _run_ to _get out of there_ , but all she could do was stand and stare. Stare and stare and stare because… because… 

Because standing in front of her, a gun in his hand pressed against her dad’s skull, was the Joker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people, we're here. The climax. God, it feels so weird. I know this was a cliffhanger, but I've been planning these next few scenes for so long now that it just feels ridiculously amazing that I'm finally here and able to write it and share it with you guys. So thank you to everyone who's reading this story, both the ones who've been here from the beginning and the people just starting it now. You all mean the world to me.
> 
> Thank you to Mystik_Owl for editing this chapter. It's always much appreciated.
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments (and feel free to yell at me if it makes you feel better) or IM me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/)


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joker shows up at Tessa's house

Her first instinct was to scream— to scream because Damian was right outside and she didn’t know what the fuck was happening or what she could do and the fear was so much that it clawed at her throat. 

But before she could, the Joker cocked the gun and said, “Scream, and dear old dad gets a bullet in the brain.” 

For one heartbeat, she debated screaming anyway. To scream and let the Joker put a bullet in her piece of shit dad’s head because goddamn it, after everything he’d done, he _deserved_ it. He deserved to die. He deserved to have his life taken away in some horrible, pointless way. 

For one heartbeat, she let those thoughts scream through her head. Then she clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders, meeting the Joker’s gaze head-on. 

His smile stretched, those scars pulling up. “Good choice.” 

A shiver traced its way down her spine. In her entire time in Gotham, she’d never ran into the Joker. Lucky. It’d been nothing more than luck that she hadn’t gotten in his crosshairs. But seeing him now, the manic look in his near-white eyes and that godawful smile– she understood why everyone was terrified of him. 

Outside, she heard the engine of a car turn on. 

It might have been luck that kept her from meeting him, but it wasn’t luck that brought him here tonight. It was Damian. Robin. The person who was driving away. 

A large, overwhelming part of her was glad. Whatever new plan the Joker had to terrorize this city, it involved Robin, and she wanted him as far away from that as possible. She wanted him safe. And if that meant she had to face the Joker alone, then she would. 

The other part of her though… that part was begging him to come inside. The part of her that was terrified, and small, and weak. The part of her that she’d never quite been able to get rid of no matter how hard she tried. 

The sound of tires on asphalt faded into the distance. 

“What do you want?” she asked. Her voice didn’t so much as shake. She refused to let it. 

Somehow, the Joker’s smile stretched even wider. “You are interesting. I expected you to be crying by this point.” 

Her lips pulled back from her teeth. “What. Do. You. Want.” 

“Ah-ah-ah,” he said, wagging his finger. “Don’t rush, Tessie. I’ve got the whole night planned out, so you’ve got to wait for your cue.” 

Her cue? What the hell did that mean? Was he going to give some flourishing gesture and point to her like some conductor for her to come in and play his music? Fuck that. 

“And,” the Joker singsonged, “first things first…” 

He pulled the gun away from her dad’s head, tucking it into the waistband of his pants, then gave the rope binding his hands behind the chair a tug. 

Her dad stood up, rubbing his wrists as he looked at the Joker. “Thank you.” 

“No problem, friend,” he said, giving him a pat on the back that made him stumble forward a step. 

Her heart started pounding in her chest, a beat she could feel and hear. 

She flicked her eyes between the two of them; between the Joker, still grinning as he watched her, and her dad, his eyes cold as he stared at her – the same cold, empty look that he always got before he hurt her. 

She shook her head, shoulders curving in as she stumbled back a step. “What’s happening?” 

“What’s happening,” the Joker said, “is your dad is giving you to me.” 

She started shaking. “No. No, he wouldn’t do that.” She looked at her dad. “You wouldn’t do that. Not even you would… you _wouldn’t_. You couldn’t. You… you… you…” 

Words failed her as he walked towards her, that cold gaze pinning her to the spot. Every muscle in her body locked under that gaze. Immobilized. Stuck. Just like she’d always been. Her throat closed up, so tight she felt like she couldn’t breathe. 

Her dad stopped in front of her, and suddenly she felt nine years old again. Nine years old, wondering where her mom was and why her dad was stumbling around the house, a bottle in his hand. Nine years old, asking him what was wrong. Nine years old, feeling the pain of a fist crashing into her face for the first time. Nine years old, sobbing herself to sleep, wondering what she did wrong. 

“But I did,” he said. 

A sob tore out of her chest. His voice was so _flat_. Empty. Emotionless. 

He was lying. He had to be lying. He was saying this because he had to, because the Joker was forcing him to, because this was to trick him so that they could escape, because… because… because he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He _couldn’t_. 

She looked at him, at her dad. He was her dad. She might hate him, she might never want to see him again, she might wish he wasn’t, but he was still her dad and goddamnit, shouldn’t that count for something? Shouldn’t that _mean_ something? 

She looked at him, looked for any shred that said it was a lie. 

She found nothing. 

Another sob ripped out of her chest. 

“Why,” she asked, the word catching in her throat. 

“Why?” he asked, taking a step forward. She took one back. “Why wouldn’t I? You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since the day you were born. I didn’t even want kids, but your _mother_ did. So we had you, and you ruined everything. You _destroyed_ my entire life. You _made her leave_. You tell me why I wouldn’t happily hand you over to him.” 

Her back hit the wall. She shook her head, looking up at him through blurry eyes. God, when had she started crying? When had it become so hard to breathe? When had the room become this small? 

“Nothing?” he asked, so close that she could barely see the room around him. “No words from my _baby girl_ , my _Tessie_? Can’t think of anything to defend yourself?” She couldn’t breathe. God, she couldn’t _breathe_. Every breath burned in her throat, scorching and too hot and not enough. Her damn heart was a drumbeat in her chest that echoed in her ears, the thumping felt in the pit of her stomach. Everything was too fast, too blurry, too loud, too _much_. It was all too much. 

“Figures,” he said, and she could just make out his lips twisting into a snarl. “You’ve always been a coward. You’ve never fought back a day in your life, not until _Damian Wayne_ came along. Your knight in shining armor. He convinced you that you were worth something, and screwed everything up.” 

She wanted to disappear. She pressed her back into the wall, her shoulders curving in and her head tipped down. She had to breath. She had to breathe, because if she didn’t she was going to have a full blown panic attack and she couldn’t have one, not now. 

“Not that he’ll stay,” her dad sneered. “He’ll realize how worthless you are eventually, how utterly boring and unimportant you are. He’s the son of a billionaire, after all. Eventually, he’ll get bored of his broken pet-project and realize you can’t be fixed, then leave. Just like your mother did. Your friends. Me. He’ll leave just like everyone else in your life.” 

No. No, he was _wrong_. Damian wouldn’t leave. He cared about her. _He loved her_. He wouldn’t leave. 

But god, if those weren’t all her fears spat into her face. The things she thought about in the dark, when she was left alone with her thoughts and not even sleep could quite her fears. He always knew. Somehow, he always knew exactly what she was afraid. He knew, and he threw them at her. 

Her breath caught in her throat, the buzz in her stomach so intense that she felt like she was going to throw up. 

“You want to know why?” he asked, so close that she could feel his breath on her face. 

She squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted him to stop. Wanted to scream at him to stop talking, to shut up, to just _stop_. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to just fucking _stop_ so she could fucking _breathe_. 

She took in a shaking breath, her entire body trembling. 

“It’s because you’re nothing,” he spat. “You’re worthless. You don’t matter, not to anyone. You might as well be dead.” 

Her legs gave out. 

She crashed to the floor, knees banging against hardwood and sending a shockwave through her body. Only she didn’t feel it. She didn’t feel anything. The entire world went numb, that fuzzy nothing wrapping around her chest as her eyes blurred with tears. 

There was only the fuzziness racing across her limbs and the hollow inside her chest and the dull thud of her heart. 

Distantly she heard her dad huff. Saw the blurred, out of focus shape of him walk away, leaving her on the floor. Alone. Like she’d always been. Like he said she always would be. 

Because she was nothing. No one. 

Because she didn’t matter. Because she was barely living. Because she was worthless. 

Because with how she had lived her life, she might as well be dead. 

Because she was _nothing_. 

Something in her chest broke as a sob tore out of her throat. Her walls, her heart, her fucking soul— she felt them all splinter into a million pieces, so small and so many that she didn’t know how to find them all again. How to _fix it_. 

God, everything _hurt_. Every breath, every pulse, every limb, every joint, every damn blink. It all hurt. Everything was hollow and empty and so tight and strangling and it fucking hurt. It fucking hurt, because _he was right_. 

Fuck, he was right, and it was fucking _breaking her_ and she didn’t know how to make it stop. 

“Wow,” the Joker said, beginning to slow clap. “That was a work of art, right there.” 

She was _nothing_. Since the day her mom left, she’d been trying to disappear – and it worked. God, it fucking worked. She’d done such a good job that she barely existed. Existed only here, in this house, in the place she hated more than anything else, as nothing more than a punching bag for her dad’s rage. 

She didn’t fucking matter. Not to him, or to the world, or to anybody. She was alone, and what hurt, what fucking _hurt_ , was that it was _her fault_. She’d done this to herself. She’d _let him do this to her_. 

She hadn’t fought back. Her entire life she had just _taken it_. Taken the pain. The bruises and cuts and broken bones. The ache in her chest. The words thrown at her. The loneliness and fear and grief— the goddamn _grief_ that threatened to swallow her whole every single day because she kept thinking about _what could have been_ instead of _what is_. 

Because some stupid, small, _broken_ part of her couldn’t let go of the goddamn past. She’d remembered the dad she’d had before her mom left, when they’d still been a fucking _family_. She’d let herself imagine all the damn what-ifs of how her life could have been, and it’d destroyed her. 

She’d let the what-ifs control her, and now she was here, and all the lies and the hopes and the dreams she’d let herself believe these past _seven fucking years_ were destroying her. 

They were wrong. They didn’t fucking exist. She saw that now. And it _hurt_. 

Those things were what had kept her sane. The lie where she told herself it’d be better tomorrow, next week, in a year, two years. The hope she’d get the dad she remembered back. The dream where she didn’t have to be afraid. 

She’d lied to herself for years, and it’d broken her. It was _breaking her_ , because the lies had turned her into nothing. No one. Someone who didn’t matter. Someone who might as well be dead. 

She was _wrong_. She’d been lying to herself so often that she’d forgotten they were lies. She’d told herself over and over again that she couldn’t do anything, that she had to wait, that it would all work out. She’d told herself that lie so many times that she’d wrapped herself so far around the idea that she’d lost herself in it. 

She’d let the fear and the pain and the grief control her. She’d let it consume her until she’d convinced herself that this was how it was. That this was life. That this was the best it could get. God, she’d someone convinced herself that what was happening was _okay_. That it was okay what her dad, her goddamn _dad_ , was doing to her. 

But she wouldn’t anymore. 

She was done letting fear and pain and grief control her life. Done letting _him_ control her life. 

She was done believing it was okay. Because it wasn’t. It never had been. It never would be. 

She was done lying to herself. With the what-ifs and maybes and could-have-beens. 

She was done hoping that he’d change. He wouldn’t. He’d proven that. 

She was done dreaming of the future. 

She was done waiting. 

She was _done_. 

“You’re wrong.” 

The Joker stopped clapping. 

Her dad looked at her. “I’m not.” 

She looked up, letting her gaze meet his. “You. Are. Wrong.” 

Legs shaking, she pushed herself to her feet, never once letting her gaze leave his. 

“You are wrong,” she repeated, voice shaking. “People don’t leave me. My friends didn’t leave me, I pushed them away. I made that choice. Because you forced me to. And Damian? Damian won’t leave me. No matter what happens, he _won’t_ leave me. 

“And Mom,” her voice hitched on the word. The name. The one she hadn’t said in years. “Mom didn’t leave me. She left _you_.” 

Her dad’s face twisted. “Say that agai–” “ _She left you_ ,” she said, taking a step forward. “She left you because she realized you’re an abusive piece of shit who hurt her, and then when she left you started hurting me. 

“You _hurt me_ ,” she said, hot tears streaming down her face. “My _dad_ , the person who was supposed to protect me, hurt me instead. You hurt a defenseless little girl who couldn’t fight back and barely understood what was happening. What kind of person does that?” 

He took a step forward. “Why you little–” 

“You called me a coward,” she said, lifting her chin. “What does that make you, then?” 

“More than you’ll ever be,” he snarled. 

“Really?” she asked. “Because I think it makes you less than human.” 

Her back slammed into the wall. Her dad pressed his arm against her throat, leaning close and hissing, “Shall we find out? Because as far as I can tell, you’re not that defenseless little girl anymore.” 

She glared up at him. “No, I’m not.” 

In a move she’d practiced with Damian a dozen times, she rammed her forward into the bridge of his nose, relishing the crunch as his nose broke. 

Her dad yelped, stumbling backwards with his hands going to his nose. Blood streamed down his face, coating his hands in red. 

“I’m not defenseless,” she said, looking him up and down. “And I’m not nothing. I never have been, I just let you convince me I was. Not anymore. I’m done letting you control me.” 

Her dad stared at her. Just stared. He looked like he was seeing her for the first time. She huffed, shaking her head. She was done with him. Forever. Whatever it took, when all of this was over, she was going to be done with him. 

But first she had to deal with the Joker. 

Tessa flicked her eyes past her dad to where the Joker was standing, a grin stretched across his face, and staring right at her. 

She leveled him with a flat look. “What do you want?” 

The Joker laughed, hands going to his stomach as he leaned back and laughed. And laughed, and laughed, and laughed, the sound too high and too frantic. She didn’t even flinch. She was too tired. Too tired to care at this point. 

She just watched him, waiting until his laughter finally died down and he met her gaze again. 

“I like you,” he said, walking past her dad and looking her up and down. 

“I don’t care,” she said. “What do you want?” 

He just grinned. “I thought I told you to wait for your cue.” 

“That was my cue,” she said. “What. Do. You. Want.” 

“You, of course,” he said, walking towards her. “Or, not you, but someone you know. The latest bird in the bat’s collection. I heard he’s developed a thing for you. How’s that going?” 

So it was Robin he was after. And he wanted to use her to get to him. 

Which would work. Once Damian found out the Joker had her, he was going to come for her and walk right into whatever it was the Joker was planning. 

“Not well, considering there is no thing,” she said. 

“Oh, come now, let’s not lie, alright?” he said, tilting his head. “I understand the media might exaggerate things a bit, but even your dad told me about Robin threaten him so he’d stop hurting you, so there most definitely is a _thing_.” 

“What?” 

She couldn’t help it. The word just slipped out of her lips. 

The Joker’s eyes lit up. “You didn’t know? Well, that’s just great. Seems Robin’s had a thing for you _much_ longer than you thought, which means–” The Joker spun around, landing with his arms outstretched. “–this whole plan of mine is going to be much more fun.” 

Damian had threatened her dad. He’d actually done it. She’d thought he might, especially once she found out he was Robin, but— god, he threatened her dad. For her. To protect her. 

She couldn’t think about it. Not now. Not with them standing in front of her, watching her like a hawk. But— “When?” 

She had to know. Before she forgot. Before whatever it was the Joker had planned for her, she had to know. 

Her dad sneered, one hand still pinching his nose. Voice muffled by the blood, he spat, “Before you started dating the Wayne brat. Cornered me in a parking lot and had the Red Hood threaten to kill me.” 

She didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. 

He’d threatened her dad before they’d dated. When they were friends. He’d cared about her enough even back then to do that for her. 

And Jason… Jason had been there too. And if Jason had, so had everyone else. There’s no way the two of them would have been able to keep doing something like that from the rest of them. 

“Come now, Tessie, you really should keep better tabs on your bird,” the Joker said, walking towards her. 

She met his deranged gaze with steel. “He’s not _my_ anything. I barely know him.” 

A sharp pain slammed into her cheek, and her feet flew out from under her. She hit the floor hard, knees and shoulder barking. 

“I thought,” the Joker said, crouching down, “we agreed not to lie.” 

Tessa looked up. That smile –sickening, twisted, insane– was still stretched across his face, but all amusement had dropped from his eyes. There was nothing but ice and a promise of pain. 

She spat blood onto the ground. “I’m not lying.” 

Something sparked in the Joker’s eyes. Standing up, he turned and started pacing. “See, you’re a very good liar, probably all thanks to your pops over there. But you’re forgetting one very important thing! I know the truth. And the truth is you know the bats, and they care about you. They wouldn’t have threatened your daddy over there if they didn’t. 

“The question,” he said, raising one hand in the air before lowering it and point it directly at her, “is if _you_ care about _them_.” 

Tessa pushed herself back onto her feet. “Like I said, I barely know them.” 

She didn’t let anything flick across her face as she said it. He could believe whatever he wanted, even if it was the truth; she wasn’t going to let him know that. She didn’t care what it took. He could try whatever sick things he wanted to get the truth out of her— she wasn’t going to let him. 

The Joker walked towards her; kept walking, until he was so close that she could see each line in his white face. She tipped her head up, meeting that cold gaze and matching it with one of her own. 

He tilted his head. “Thanks for the answer, Tessie.” 

His fist slammed into her gut and she dropped to her knees, gasping for air. 

“You care about them,” he said, walking away as he talked with his hands. “You wouldn’t be so calm if you didn’t. I’ve met too many people to know that what you’re doing right now isn’t the normal reaction to me. There’s usually a lot more screaming, and crying, and _begging_ — god, there’s always _so much begging_. It’s really quite annoying. _Especially_ when it’s begging _and_ crying at the same time. That’s just the _worst_. 

“ _Anyhooooo_ , if you didn’t care about them, you’d be just like all those other people. But obviously you do, as you’re being all… _brave_ for them.” 

“Or maybe you don’t scare me,” she said, looking at him through her hair. 

“If I didn’t scare you,” the Joker said, leaning forward, “you’d either be insanely stupid or insanely naïve. Fortunately, I don’t think you’re either, which just means you’re a liar.” His grin stretched. “Though, we’ve already established that.” 

She glared. “So where does that leave us?” she asked. “Does that mean you’re going to use me as bait? Swing me around in front of their faces so they walk right into whatever trap you have laid out for them?” 

“Oh, goodness no— nothing that simplistic,” he said, walking towards her in an off-balance lilt. “What I’ve got planned for them doesn’t involve using you as bait, that’s too last year. They’d see that a mile away. What _I’ve_ got planned is something much more… explosive.” 

Her blood went cold. 

His off-pitch laugh screamed into her ears as his lips twisted in a smile. 

“What I’ve got planned for you though,” he said, walking closer and trailing his finger down her cheek. She jerked her face away. “Well, if you care about them, that means you know something. And while they’re running around like bats with their heads cut off trying to stop me, we’re going to find out what exactly you know.” 

“You’re going to be disappointed if that’s all you need me for,” she said. 

“Oh, that’s not _all_ I need you for,” he said, patting the top of her head. “You’re a very crucial part of the torture I have planned for them, especially your little bird. Without you, none of this fun would be able to happen. And I _like_ having fun.” 

She felt her heartbeat in her stomach. He was going to use her against Damian. To torture him. To _hurt_ him. To do the exact thing Damian had been afraid of since the Poison Ivy attack. He might think she was blind, but she knew why he visited her in the middle of the night. It was to make sure she was safe. 

And now she wasn’t, and he was going to do everything he could to get her back. He wasn’t going to think about himself. He was going to get hurt. Because of her. 

“And if you’re thinking about running,” the Joker said, casually pulling out his gun and aiming it at her, “I wouldn’t.” 

She looked at him. Slowly, she stood up, hands raised in the air. 

“You’re going to be disappointed,” she said, once again. 

“I don’t think I will,” the Joker said, walking towards her and turning her towards the door, aiming the gun at her back. 

Before she could do anything, she felt a prick in her neck. 

Dizziness swarmed her. She blinked, stumbling forward into the wall. Then fell to the ground. 

The last thing she saw before the darkness took her was the repeating image of the Joker’s smiling face hovering above her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright people, here we are. The climax. We've finally started the beginning of the end, and honestly I can't think of a better chapter to start then this one because while it utterly destroyed me to write this, I also am so proud of this chapter and love it so much, and I know it's super angsty and a little heavy but I hope you all love it as much as I do.
> 
> So, I don't think I've said it enough, but thank you to all of you. Your comments and feedback and support for this story is literally everything to me and brings me so much joy, so thank you for everything. You guys mean the world to me and I'm both extremely excited that this story is going to end and extremely sad because that means I won't be seeing any of you for a good long while. So just, thank you for sticking with me and this mess of a story so far, and I hope you'll be happy when we do finally reach the end.
> 
> Thank you to Mystik_Owl for editing this chapter. There were so many stupid mistakes and you caught most of them and helped me figure shit out so you quite literally were an angel for this one.
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments or feel free to follow/message me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/).


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The batfam find out the Joker has Tessa

Tessa blinked, the world slowly coming into focus around her. A room made of concrete. Tarps hanging against one wall. A flickering light hanging in front of her. The Joker to her left, leaning against a table. 

Her eyes flew open. She jerked, the instinct to run taking over her entire body, but chains stopped her from moving— chains, and the burning pain that shot through her body. 

She gasped, clenching her teeth together to keep from screaming as her shoulder burned and her head pounded. 

“Nice to see you again, Tessie,” the Joker said, walking towards her. “Sorry for the pain, I got bored waiting for you to wake up.” 

She glared at him, hissing through her teeth, “Go to hell.” 

The Joker laughed. It echoed around the room, again and again, until it sounded like there were dozens of him. Until it felt like he was everywhere. Surrounding her. Her heart started to pound in her chest. 

“Soooooooo,” the Joker said, circling around her. “Before we let your little bird know I’ve got you in a cage, I thought we could have some fun first.” 

A shiver traced its way down her spine. She could feel the all too familiar sensation of fear. It was pooling in her stomach, hot and slippery, climbing its way up her throat. She forced in a shaking breath, stifling the scream building in her chest. 

She wouldn’t scream. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Wouldn’t let him see her fear. She refused. 

“Now, I want to know what you know,” the Joker said, circling back towards the table. “About Robin. And the rest of the bats. And you can either tell me or…” 

Her stomach twisted as the Joker carefully picked up a crowbar, staring at it almost lovingly, before letting it fall into the palm of his other hand. 

His eyes flicked to her, and the smile that twisted across his face set every hair on her body standing up straight. 

“I’ve had a lot of fun hurting Robins with crowbars,” he said, letting the tip fall to the floor with a thud. He walked towards her, the grating sound of metal on concrete dragging after him. “This won’t be _directly_ hurting a Robin but…” He leaned in close, a giant grin plastered to his face. “I think it’ll be just as fun.” 

She shrank back into the chair, her breath coming hard and fast as her heart started pounding in her chest. This was bad. This was very, very bad. 

She’d taken beatings, more than she’d care to admit, but this? This was different. This was going to be a metal rod slamming into her body. This was going to hurt worse than anything she’d experienced in her entire life. 

Tessa forced breaths in and out of her nose, sharp and steady. She had to keep breathing. Had to keep breathing, so she wouldn’t panic. She couldn’t panic. Panic led to stupidity, panic made the pain hurt more, panic would let her mouth run. And she couldn’t do that. Couldn’t tell him anything, no matter how bad the pain got. 

She wouldn’t tell him. Who they were, what they meant to her, whatever other stupid, pointless questions he would ask her. She wouldn’t. She refused to give them up. 

And… and he’d still hurt her, even if she told him. She’d heard the horror stories about the Joker. Heard what he’d done to people, the mutilated corpses that he left behind. She knew what could happen to her. What would probably happen to her. 

She trusted Damian. With her life. With everything. But when it came down to it, when she looked at the situation around her… 

Jaw clenched, she met the Joker’s gaze. Met the insanity head on and ground out, “I don’t know anything.” 

His smile grew, his entire face lighting up as he pulled away and jumped up and down. “Ooooh, thank you, Tessie. That was just the answer I wanted to hear.” 

Her scream echoed around the room as she felt her ribs snap. 

\------------------------------- 

Damian tapped his fork against the table, resisting the urge to check his phone. Like he had been all morning. 

It wasn’t because he was worried about Tessa, it was only nine in the morning. She was usually asleep at this time. There wasn’t anything unusual about her not texting him yet. It was completely reasonable. Completely. 

And yet he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. 

He’d had it when he was going to bed last night, too. He’d stopped by her house at the end of patrol, but all the lights had been on off and he could just make out the shape of her in her bed. She was fine. He’d seen that she was fine. Yet he couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that she wasn’t. 

“Hey, Little D, that’s not how you eat food.” 

Damian blinked looking up. He found Dick and Cass staring at him, the only two who were up. He looked down, finding that he’d somehow switched from tapping his fork against the table to stabbing the table repetitively, leaving four identical holes in the wood. 

Shit. Alfred was going to kill him. 

“Do not worry,” Cass said, smiling. “Won’t tell.” 

“Yeah,” Dick said, reaching across and plucking a piece of melon off his plate. “As long as you tell us what’s on your mind.” 

Damian frowned, glaring at his plate. He stabbed a banana and shoved it in his mouth. 

“Come on, Dames, it’s us,” Dick said. “And you’re obviously bothered by whatever this is. You’ll feel better if you share.” 

Damian snorted. Of course he’d think that. Not to mention how hypocritical it was. Dick was one of the most secretive people out of all of them. He might preach about feelings and sharing, but he was just as bad as the rest of them when it came down to the actual doing it part. 

“Is it Tessa?” Dick pushed. “Did you guys have a fight? Because if you did, it’s completely normal and healthy and if you just ta–” 

“We aren’t having a fight,” Damian snapped. He stabbed a strawberry. 

“Well, what is it then?” he asked, tilting his head. “Is it a case? Maybe we can hel–” 

“It’s not a case, it’s–” Damian huffed, shoving hand through his hair. 

He didn’t want to talk about this. It was just a stupid feeling, and he was wrong, so there wasn’t anything they could do. He was freaking out for no reason. 

“It’s what?” Cass said, eyes flicking across his face. 

Damian looked at her. She raised an eyebrow, her face softening. Damn it. She wasn’t going to drop it. And he couldn’t say no to her when she looked at him like that. 

“It’s just I have a bad feeling that something’s wrong with Tessa,” he said. 

There. He’d said it. Maybe they could all drop it and eat breakfast in peace. 

“What do you mean a bad feeling?” Dick asked, frowning. 

He closed his eyes. Great. Now Dick was worried. Which wasn’t going to help his own worry. Cause damn it, fine, he was worried. A lot. 

“I mean that my gut is saying that she’s in trouble,” he said, pressing his lips together. 

“Is she?” Cass asked. 

“No,” Damian said, hand tightening around his fork. “I had the same feeling before going to sleep last night so I went to check on her, but nothing was wrong. It’s just a misplaced feeling.” 

Cass’s frown only deepened. 

“It’s nothing,” Damian said. “It’s just me being paranoid.” 

Cass shook her head. “No. I have the same feeling.” 

Damian’s head shot up, his eyes locking with hers. 

They were out of their seats before either of them had blinked. 

“Hey!” Dick called, trailing after them. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?” 

“When did you get the feeling?” Damian asked, heading for the grandfather clock. 

“Around midnight,” she said, crossing her arms as he twisted the hands to the correct time. 

His stomach twisted. That was around the same time he’d first felt like something was off. At the time, he’d thought it’d had to do with patrol but… he’d realized it was urging him towards Tess. 

And if Cass had the same feeling— Damian pressed his lips together. It didn’t mean anything good. 

The clock swung open. He didn’t hesitate to head down the stairs. 

“Will you two slow down?” Dick called from behind them. “What exactly are you planning to do? It’s not like you can storm over there in uniform to check on her, it’s nine in the morning. It’ll raise too many questions and draw too many eyes.” 

“You’re not going anywhere in uniform.” 

Damian sighed through his nose. Walking to the nearest computer, he said, “Father.” 

“Don’t ignore me, Damian,” Father said, grabbing the chair he’d sat in and spinning it towards him. 

He glared. “I’m not,” he ground out. “I simply have more important things to do.” 

Father frowned. “That’s no excuse for–” 

“Here.” 

Damian looked past Father, to where Cass stood at the main computers. She’d pulled up the CCTV cameras on the computer, showing all the angles of Tessa’s house. 

Pushing past Father, he came to stand next to her, looking at the screens. 

Everything looked normal. Her father’s car was in the driveway, which was to be expected on a Sunday. All the windows were closed, and nothing in the front lawn looked like it’d been disturbed. Neither did anything that he could see through the windows. It all checked out. 

And it didn’t ease the feeling in his gut at all. 

He looked at Cass. From the tightness in her jaw, it didn’t do anything for her, either. 

“Explain.” 

Damian looked over his shoulder to find Father looking between the three of them. He just pressed his lips together. 

Father’s eyes narrowed. “Now.” 

He met his glare with one of his own. 

“Dami, you tell him or I will,” Dick said, crossing his arms. 

Swallowing the urge to punch both of them in the face, Damian said, “Cass and I both have the same feeling that something is wrong with Tessa.” 

“A feeling?” Father said, crossing his arms. 

His teeth ground together. “Yes. A feeling.” 

“And you have the same feeling?” Father asked, looking at Cass. 

She nodded, taking a step closer to Damian. 

Father took in a deep breath, bringing a hand to his face. Lowering it, he said, “Look, I can understand why you would both be worried, but a feeling isn’t a substantial thing to go on. It’s barely even–” 

“With all due respect, Father,” Damian said. “Something is wrong. Now you can either help or you can leave.” 

He expected Father to blow up. Expected the verbal lashing that was about to come out of his mouth. It’s what he always did when they got like this, even when he was right. It didn’t matter. He disagreed, he disobeyed, and Father yelled. From the way both Dick and Cass tensed and shifted into loose defensive positions, they thought so too. 

Their eyes met. He expected to see the Dark Knight. To find the harshness that he held for the worst of Gotham in his eyes. 

Instead he saw Father. Just Father. 

“Alright,” he said. “Run me through when the both of you got this feeling – that I still don’t believe in, just for the record – and why you two are freaking out now.” 

Damian exchanged a look with Cass. There was no way Father just said that. He didn’t just… give in. Ever. Especially not when they were being what he thought of as irrational. 

Hesitantly he told Father what he’d told Dick and Cass. It wasn’t much – honestly, it wasn’t anything at all. From the look on his face, Father thought so too. They had basically nothing to go on and the fact that Tessa was fine last night to go against them. 

“Call Barbara,” Father said, looking at Dick. “If something really is wrong, she’ll be able to find out.” Father paused, then said, “Call Tim too. He’s nearly as good as Babs with computers. If something turns out to actually be wrong, we’ll call the others in, but for now, I’d rather not have any more emotionally influenced people on this.” 

Damian glared. He wasn’t emotionally influenced. Much. 

Fine– he was emotionally influenced. But Tessa was his girlfriend and he was in love with her, so he was allowed to be emotionally unstable. 

Besides, the only two left would be Jason and Steph and they weren’t tha— okay, yes, they were the emotional ones. They’d be just as ready as he and Cass were to bust in there, weapons ready to beat the shit out of whatever was making the hairs on the back of their necks stand up. 

Not that that was a bad thing. Damian was half tempted to call them for that fact alone. 

Father walked over and took his phone. “Don’t you dare.” 

Damian glared. “I wasn’t going to do anything.” 

“Yes, you were,” Father said, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “Now, when was the last time you saw Tessa.” 

“Around 2 am when I was heading back from patrol.” 

“And you’re sure you saw her?” Father asked. “You saw her face.” 

Damian pressed his lips together. “…no.” 

“No?” 

“I saw someone in her bed,” he said. “But I didn’t see a clear image of her face.” 

“That doesn’t count,” Father said. “When was the last time you _saw_ her.” 

“10:30,” he said. “When I dropped her off at her house after dinner.” 

“Alright, did anyone else see her after that?” 

Father looked around the room, but no one said anything. 

“So the last confirmed visual was 10:30,” Father said, typing it into the computer. 

“Babs said she’ll be here in five, she was out with her dad already so he’s going to drop her off,” Dick said, scrolling through his phone before bringing it back up to his ear. 

“Was her father home?” 

“Lights were on when I dropped her off and his car was in the driveway, so yes,” Damian said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. 

“Tim’s also on his way,” Dick said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “He’s going to take fifteen though, he’s all the way across the city at his apartment.” 

“Good,” Father said. “Cass, you find anything on the feeds from last night?” 

Cass frowned, leaning closer to the screen. “There is a… loop. Right here.” 

Damian walked towards her, leaning over her shoulder and looking at the screen. He watched as between 11:00 and 12:00 the feed loops the same five minutes over and over again. It was nearly flawless. If the tiny black bird hadn’t flown across the bottom corner, it would have been impossible to tell. 

“Why would someone put the camera on a loop?” Damian asked, his stomach only tightening more. 

“Maybe it’s a glitch?” Dick asked, tilting his head as he watched the feed. 

“That’s intentional,” Father said. “If it was a glitch, the screen would go black or the pixels would look fuzzy, it wouldn’t loop, not like that.” 

“Wow, Bruce, look at you being right,” Barbara said, nudging everyone aside so she could get to the keyboard. 

“I did do this before you,” he said. 

“Yeah, yeah, and then I came along and you realized how inferior you are, we know,” Barbara said, shooting him a rogue smile. 

“You are better than me.” 

Barbara stopped, turning around to look at him. “Wow, B, you’re going soft in your old age.” 

He made a face. “I’m not old.” 

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself that’s fi–” 

“Can you focus?” Damian snapped. 

“Chill, baby bat, I’m running a–” 

The entire screen went black. Damian frowned. “What the hell did you do, Gordon?” 

“This isn’t me,” she said, fingers flying over the keys. “I didn’t–” 

“Hellooooooo? Is this thing on?” 

Damian felt his blood go cold. 

Slowly, he looked up at the screen and saw the oversized image of the Joker’s face inches from the camera. 

“Barbara–” 

“Already running the trace.” 

“The little light means it’s on, right?” the Joker asked, looking over his shoulder. He shrugged. “I think that means it’s working. If not, we’ll just have to do this all over again. Maybe we’ll do the fun part again, too.” 

His laugh grated against Damian’s skin, the feeling in the pit of his stomach tripling. 

He didn’t need this right now. Not when he still felt like something was wrong with Tessa. Not when he needed to focus on that, not on stopping him from hurting people. Because he said we. Which meant– “He already has someone.” 

“How’d he even get out?” Dick asked, eyes flicking across the screen. “Why didn’t we hear about this?” 

“Hello, Gotham!” he shouted, still a little too close to the camera. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I can hardly remember the last time. What was it, the gas? I think it was gas. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. What dooooes is I’m back, and we’re going to have some _fun_.” 

“Do you have that trace yet?” Father growled, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. 

“The signal keeps bouncing around,” Barbara said. 

“Pinpoint it.” 

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” 

“So! For the fun to start, I’m going to need the bats to volunteer to help,” he said. “See, this whole thing isn’t going to work without them, so if they’re not watching, can you make sure this gets to them? That’d be real helpful. 

“But if they are… hiya, Batsie. How you been? You haven’t come to visit me in a while. Honestly, I’m hurt. I thought we were closer than that.” 

“Barbara.” 

“Asking me repetitively isn’t going to make me find him faster, Bruce.” 

“We’re going to need a very special bat for this show, ladies and gentlemen,” the Joker said, finally walking back far enough that he was in the entire shot. “If Robin’s in the house, can he please step up to center stage? I think it’s time that we really let the little bird _shine_.” 

Damian saw Bruce take an instinctive step towards him. 

He barely noticed. Didn’t notice anything but the pure, hot anger that surged through the name at being called out by the lunatic. He wanted to play? He wanted to make him the center of whatever twisted plan he had this time? Fine. Let’s see if he was still laughing by the end of it. 

“See, in my itsy bitsy jail cell over in Arkham we don’t get much news, but we did get one: the Boy Wonder had taken a liking to some random girl. It was all everyone who was anyone was talking about.” 

Damian stopped breathing. 

“So I thought to myself, I want to see just what about this girl was what caught Robin’s eye,” the Joker said. “And I have to say, I approve. She’s a real good one, boyo. Got a real kick to her.” 

No. No, this didn’t mean what he thought this meant. This _couldn’t_ mean what he thought this meant. He didn’t accept it. 

The camera moved, shakily being carried over to someone tied to a chair. Someone who had blood staining their clothes and their long brown hair. 

“Say hi to your little bird, Tessie,” the Joker said, shoving the camera right into her face. 

Right into _Tessa’s_ face. 

For one, solid second, he went numb. It felt like his entire body shut down as he saw her face, bloody and bruised but _her _. God, it was _her_ and _the Joker had her_. And all he could do was stare and stare and stare, his brain barely able to process what the hell he was seeing. __

__And then he blinked, and anger surged through his veins, so hot and all-consuming that it nearly knocked the breath out of him, because the Joker had her. _The Joker had Tessa._ _ _

__“Fuck you,” Tessa hissed, spitting blood._ _

__His heart twisted, because god, she was with him, but she wasn’t falling apart. She wasn’t broken. She was still fighting._ _

__The Joker laughed, leaning away and spinning the camera back to his face, now speckled with the blood she’d spat at him. “As you can see, she’s still got some fight left in her. I tried not to ruin her face too much, she’s such a pretty little thing it’d be a shame, but time’s ticking away bird boy.”_ _

__He was going to kill him. Slowly. Preferably with his katana, but his hands would work just as well. But he was going to kill him. For so much as breathing her way, he was going to kill him._ _

__“Now, see, you could come save her, be her knight in not-so-shining armor, and come find me and throw me back in my cell,” the Joker said. “It’s honestly a pretty good option, if I were you I’d be tempted to do it. No doubt you’d be able to find me in a matter of hours and save the day in another few, but before you decide I think you’ll want to hear the other option._ _

__“You see, I’ve planted bombs around the city. Sixteen, in fact. I thought that was a good number, don’t you? It just has a good _feel_ to it, you know? _Sixteen_. That’s how old you are, isn’t it? Sixteen years of life. It seemed right to use that number.” _ _

__“Barbara.”_ _

__“I swear to god, Bruce, if you say my name one more time I’m going to kick your ass.”_ _

__“Now there’s sixteen bombs including this one right here,” he said, patting a hulking mass of metal and wires that looked more like a poorly constructed science fair project than a bomb. “And they’re all set to go off twelve hours frooooom… now.”_ _

__Barbara pressed a button, and a countdown timer lit up off the top of the bat-computer._ _

__“Now this one right here is special. It’s hooked up to Tessie,” the Joker said. “So, all these bombs are set to explode at the same time, but if you come for Tessie before all the other bombs are taken care of…” He pulled a detonator out of his pocket and waved it around in front of the camera. “I push this and all the bombs go ka-boom._ _

__“So you’ve got a choice, Robin: are you going to save your city, or your girl? Cause I don’t think you have time for both.”_ _

__His laugh echoed through the camera, the sound bouncing around in the cave._ _

__“Don’t save me,” Tessa said, just loud enough to be heard. “Don’t save me. Save the city. My life isn’t worth more than theirs. Sa–”_ _

__Damian saw red as the Joker’s fist slammed into Tessa’s jaw._ _

__He wanted his katana. Wanted to ram it into the clown gut until the hilt hit his ribs and the entire blade was slick with his blood. Wanted to watch the life drain out of the bastards eyes for touching her._ _

__“Awwwww, that’s sweet,” the Joker said, walking back over and pinching her cheek. He watched her snarl at him. “But that’s not your choice. It’s yours.” He looked directly at the camera. Damian glared back. “I can’t _wait_ to see what you decide, Robin.” _ _

__“Don’t choose me!” Tessa screamed, voice hoarse. “I’m not worth more, okay? Please, don’t choo–”_ _

__The screen cut to black._ _

__“Did you get it?”_ _

__Barbara pulled off her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose._ _

__“No.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooooo. I know it's a little later in the day then when I normally post but this chapter needed some editing and I just finished like 10 minutes ago. So yeah, here's the chapter. I hope you don't want to kill me too much. Feel free to scream in the comments.
> 
> Thanks to Mystik_Owl for helping me edit this mess of a chapter since I wrote it in the middle of the night cause I couldn't sleep. You're the best.
> 
> As always, talk to me in the comments or message me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/)


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bats search for the bombs

Damian sat at one of the tables, methodically running the whetstone over the blade of his katana. The sound echoed through the Batcave, mixing with the raised voices of Stephanie and Father yelling at each other, a different sort of grating sound. 

The rough scrape of stone of metal was calming. Centering. It made everything more clear, more balanced, unlike the screaming going on. The one that Barbara and Dick were trying to stop. That Tim was simply listening to. That Cass was watching the way she watched everything. 

He ran the whetstone down his katana again. And again. And again. And again. 

The sound of an engine echoed out of one of the long tunnels. Motorcycle. One that was coming in fast and wasn’t slowing down. 

The sound of the whetstone was lost in the roar of the motorcycle. In the skidding, screeching sound that it made as it came to a stop, burnt rubber leaving trails of black on the ground. 

Everyone stopped talking as Jason slid off his bike and threw his helmet to the ground. “How. The _fuck_. Did this happen?” 

Damian tilted his head, looking at his sword, before running the whetstone down the edge again. 

“That’s what I was trying to find out,” Steph said, crossing her arms and glaring at Father 

“Can you both please just c–” 

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ , Bruce,” Jason said, taking a step forward. “You do _not_ get to tell anyone to calm down right now. You get to explain how the fuck this happened, because the _only_ reason I wasn’t watching her was because I thought _you_ were.” 

Gently Damian placed his katana to the side, reached for one of his many knives, and started the process all over again, one long stroke after another. 

Father ground out, “I had eyes on her but–” 

“There’s no _buts_ , Bruce!” Jason screamed. “ _The Joker_ has _Tessa_ , and it’s _your damn fault_.” 

His hand slipped. 

“We’re going to place blame?” Father asked. “That’s what you want to do right now? You really think that’s what’s most productive? You really think that’s what Tessa needs?” 

“You don’t get to say that,” Steph snarled, stepping into his face. 

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Dick said. “We can all be mad at Bruce but–” 

“Not fair?” Jason spat. “Not fair? Really, Dickhead? What’s not fair is that the Joker was allowed to get close enough to Tessa to _kill her_. Because that’s what he’s going to do. He’s going to kill her. He strapped a _bomb_ to her and we can’t even go get her because there are _fifteen other ones_ throughout the city.” 

“And we need to get those, so we can get her,” Barbara said, rolling in the middle of them. “Arguing isn’t helping her, and blaming isn’t helping her. We _all_ screwed up. All of us. It was all of our jobs to make sure she was safe, and we failed.” 

Damian stopped, the whetstone hovering above the blade. He closed his eyes, took in a long, deep breath, and then started again. 

“We are going to get her back,” Barbara said. “But you have to stop arguing and pointing fingers like children. We have fifteen bombs to find and disable with less than twelve hours to do it, so I need everyone to put aside their anger and focus, got it?” 

The grate of stone on metal echoed through his bones. 

“ _Got it?_ ” Barbara asked, meeting each of their eyes. 

“Understood,” Father said, taking a step back. 

“Got it,” Steph ground out, still glaring. 

A smooth stroke of stone on metal cut into the silence. Another. 

Jason looked Father up and down. “Got it,” he said, rolling his shoulders. 

“Great,” Barbara said, rolling back to the computers. “I’m going to be running point.” 

Father opened his mouth, but Barbara looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. He shut his mouth. 

“We’ve got fifteen bombs and eleven hours and forty-eight minutes to find and disarm them,” she said, pulling up a map of Gotham. “GCPD is already out there looking for the bombs, sweeping the Upper Westside, Chinatown, Old Gotham, the Diamond District, the Fashion District, and the Financial District. That leaves the Upper East Side, the Bowery, Crime Alley, Robbinsville, Burnley, Newtown, Otisburg, and Amusement Mile.” 

“That’s a lot to cover,” Tim said. 

“Which is why we need to start now,” Barbara said. “Damian?” 

He stopped, looking up at her. 

“Can you take a quick break and come listen?” 

He tilted his head, looking back down at the blades he’d already sharpened and the two he’d yet to touch. “I can multi-task.” 

“Dames, please,” she said softly, her eyes flicking over him. 

Distantly, he was aware that that was worry on her face – the slight crease in her brow; the tightness to her lips; the hesitation in her eyes – but he didn’t feel it. Didn’t get angry like he knew, somewhere, that he should have. All he felt was the hollowness in his chest and the buzz in his brain. 

“I can multi-task,” he repeated, picking up the next dagger and beginning to sharpen it. 

He saw Babs look at Dick. Knew they were having a silent conversation. He dragged the whetstone over the dagger. 

“Alright, Little D, that’s fine, can you just come closer a bit?” Dick asked. 

Damian sighed. Standing up, he walked closer and sat down on the floor, going back to sharpening the dagger. 

“Okay,” Babs said, turning back to the screen. “We’ll be in two-person teams–” 

“There’s seven of us,” Tim said. 

“B will be by himself,” she said, looking at Father. He nodded. 

“Jay, Cass, you’ll take Crime Alley and the Bowery, then circle into Robbinsville when you finish. Tim, Steph, you’re on the Upper East Side. Start on the side closer to Crime Alley and work your way down until you meet with the police. Dick, Damian, Burnley and Newton. Bruce, take Otisburg. Whichever of you three finish first, move into Amusement Mile. Understood?” 

He heard everyone answer. He held up his dagger, spinning it to look at all the edges before putting it aside and grabbing the last one. 

“I want everyone to have comms and cameras on and all times so I can see what’s happening. When you find a bomb, I’ll talk you through disarming it. Do not try to do it alone the first time. I’m not going to have any of you blow up from stupidity today. 

“If you find the Joker–” 

Damian’s head snapped up, his hands stilling. 

“–bring him back here,” she said. “Our priority is the bombs and Tessa, we’ll deal with him when all of this is over.” 

His jaw clenched. Hand tightening, he went back to sharpening. 

“Any questions?” Babs asked. No one moved. She nodded. “Suit up, watch each other’s backs, don’t be stupid. Go.” 

Everyone stood up, heading for their uniforms. Sighing, Damian stood up, carefully laying out his weapons on the nearest table. He’d come back for them once he was in uniform. 

Turning, he saw Father talking to Babs. He glanced at him, his jaw tightening, but Babs grabbed his wrist and said something to him, too low for him to hear, but Father straightened up and walked out of the room. 

He didn’t have time for this. They had bombs to find and Tessa to save and Joker to catch. Whatever problem Father was having, they could deal with it after. 

He started walking, but Babs said, “Damian, come here for a sec.” 

He clenched his jaw. 

Walking towards her, he asked, “Do you need something?” 

She just frowned. “What’s with all the weapons, Dames?” 

He looked back at his pile. Half a dozen assorted blades, all sharpened and polished. 

He met her eyes. “I think you know why.” 

To kill the Joker. From the second he’d seen Tessa in that video, he’d known. For touching her, for hurting her, for threatening to kill her, he was going to die. Painfully. Slowly. Until his laughter turned into screams and he was begging for him to end it. 

“Damian, please think about this,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand. “You haven’t killed in years. Don’t go back on all the progress you’ve made.” 

He looked down at their hands. “I have thought about this. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I saw Tessa covered in blood and shaking. He did that to her. He’s trying to _kill_ her. I’m not going to give him a second chance.” 

“Dames–” 

“You can’t change my mind,” he said, meeting her gaze. “And you can’t stop me.” 

She could try. She probably would. If it was anyone else, she probably could. But this wasn’t anyone else he was trying to kill. This was the Joker. And he wasn’t the only one who wanted him dead. The only who knew what needed to be done. 

Babs looked at him, the light of the computer screen making her skin look blue. She had that knot between her brows, the one that hadn’t gone away since they started talking. Since the Joker appeared. Since they’d seen that video. 

God, that video. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath– only he saw her face, saw the blood on her temple and the wild-look in her eyes and the way she had screamed at him to not save her. 

She’d told him to save the city. To save Gotham. To save the thousands of people who would die because of the bombs. To leave her there until the very end because she wasn’t worth more than anyone else. 

But she was. To him, she was everything. 

Opening his eyes he slipped off his bracelet and handed it to Babs. “You can use this to find Tessa. She has a matching necklace, and they’re hooked up through a satellite so they can always be in contact with each other.” 

Babs took it, gently twirling it around. “It’ll take me a couple hours, and we can’t move on her location until the bombs are gone.” 

“So we destroy the bombs, and then we get Tessa,” he said. “Just like you said.” 

“Suit up,” she said, nodding towards the locker rooms. “Dick’s probably ready and waiting by now.” 

He nodded. Turning on his heel he walked towards his suit. 

“Damian?” 

He looked over his shoulder. 

“Think about what Tessa would want you to do.” 

He clenched his jaw. Letting out a long breath, he started walking again. 

They had bombs to disable. 

\-------------------------------------- 

Two hours. It’d been two hours since they’d started looking for the bombs, and they hadn’t found a single one. Neither had the GCPD. They’d even set up a hotline for citizens to call in the bombs, but every call had been nothing but a false alarm. 

It was like there wasn’t a single bomb in the city. 

Robin clenched his jaw. Maybe there weren’t any bombs. Maybe this was a wild goose chase that was meant to end with them realizing too late that they could have just went after Tessa. Maybe the Jokers grand plan was to watch them chase their tails. 

He wouldn’t put it past the lunatic. Watching them flounder around looking for non-existent bombs would certainly qualify as “fun” for him. 

Repressing a snarl, Robin jumped into the alley after Nightwing. They’d made their way through half of Burnley and still had nothing. He was about ready to start punching people to see if that turned out any bombs. That, and the pit in his– 

“Uh, Oracle?” Nightwing said, his voice echoing in his ear and out loud. “I think I found one.” 

Robin spun around. 

Nightwing gently placed the piece of cardboard in his hand off to the side, revealing a chunk of metal that came up to his waist with a mess of wires sticking everywhere. 

He felt his stomach flip. 

“You seeing this?” Nightwing asked. 

“I’m seeing it,” Oracle said. “I’m putting you and Robin on a separate line.” His comm clicked in his ear. “Can you two stand on opposite sides so I can get the full view of it?” 

Robin did as asked, his eyes trailing over the bomb. He hated it. It didn’t make sense. The wires were all wrong, all of them weaving in and out of each other. It looked more likely that’d it disconnect or disarm itself than actually explode. 

“Okay, I need you to listen to me closely and do exactly what I say,” Oracle said. “If you don’t, you are two square blocks are going to blow up.” 

“Two blocks?” Nightwing asked, crossing his arms. “He really went overboard, didn’t he?” 

“He always goes overboard,” Robin hissed. “What do we do?” 

“See where the timer is? I need you to gently take off the plate above it. The circuit board should be there.” 

He walked towards it, pulling out a Batarang and using the tip to unscrew the bolts sealing the hatch closed, then gently took the piece off to reveal– “What the hell kind of bomb is this?” 

“I don’t know,” Oracle said. “Give me a minute.” 

“We don’t _have_ a minute,” Robin growled. 

“Hey, take a deep breath,” Nightwing said. “She’s got this, and you need to be steady so we can disarm this without blowing it up.” 

Damian let out a long breath through his nose, jaw working. He didn’t need to breathe. He needed this bomb to be disarmed so they could find the next one. He needed to be able to go save Tessa. 

But he couldn’t _do that_ , because he was running around trying to disarm bombs that shouldn’t work but somehow did because the lunatic who’s threatening to blow her up is also threatening to blow up the city, and unless they disarm these bombs before going after him he’d set them all off before the twelve hours were up. 

“What if we electrocute it?” he said, staring at the bomb. “It looks like the kind that short-circuiting would work.” 

“No,” Oracle said. “See that little piece of metal in the corner? Electrocute that and you’ll blow it up on the spot.” 

“Then what do we do?” 

“Cut the red wire and the black wire at the same time.” 

Gently, Robin took the red wire in his hand and pressed the Batarang against it, then looked up at Nightwing. 

“On my count,” he said. “Three. Two. One.” 

He sliced through the wire. 

He flicked his eyes to the timer. It stopped, the numbers flashing at 9:52:37. 

Then flashed to 00:10:00 and started counting down. 

“Oracle,” Dick said. “Bombs now at ten minutes and starting to get hot.” 

Damian flicked his eyes over the bomb. The wires were everywhere, too many to count right. Too many to check in ten minutes. But– 

“The green wire.” 

“What?” 

“Oracle, the green wire.” 

“Which one?” 

“Coming out of the bottom left of the circuit board.” 

Eight minutes. 

Seven. 

Six. 

“Oracle,” Nightwing warned. 

Five minutes. 

Four. 

“He’s right,” she said. “Cut the green wire.” 

Robin didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the wire and sliced through it. 

The bomb made a single beep, then the timer went blank. 

Nightwing leaned against the wall, a sloppy smile on his face. “Nice job, Little D.” 

“Come on,” he said, walking towards the end of the alley. “We’ve still got fifteen left.” 

\--------------------------------------- 

“And… done,” Nightwing said, cutting through the last wire. The lights on the bomb in front of them went out, the timer stopped at 6:37:12. 

“That’s five,” Robin said. Five bombs in five hours. His hands balled into fists. 

They weren’t moving fast enough. At this pace, there’d still be four bombs left when the timer ran out. One of which was attached to Tessa. One that would blow up and kill her. 

“Make that six,” Red Hood said over the comms. 

“Actually, eight,” Oracle said. “GCPD disabled two in the last ten minutes. I was waiting for you to finish before I told you.” 

Half. They had half disabled with six and a half hours remaining. Six and a half hours to find eight bombs and disable them, including the time it’d take to find Tessa and disable that bombs. His hand twitched. 

Time was running out. Wherever the Joker had Tessa, they’d be stupid to think it was just her and the bomb. There were going to be traps, and henchmen, and who-knows-what-else waiting for them. They’d have to get through all of that just to get to her then disable the bomb set to blow her up. 

“Found one!” Red Robin called, his voice echoing through the comms. “But… this one looks a lot worse than the other ones.” 

“It is,” Oracle said. “It’s going to take a while to disarm.” 

“We don’t _have_ a while,” he growled, stepping away from the bomb they’d just disabled. 

“I’m putting you on a separate line, Red Robin,” Oracle said. “Batgirl, keep sweeping the surrounding area, but stay close in case he needs help.” 

“Copy that,” Batgirl said. 

Damian groaned, his hand itching for the katana on his back. 

A hand fell on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “We’re going to get her back.” 

“You don’t know that,” he snapped, shrugging off his hand. 

“Yes, I do,” Nightwing said, stepping in front of him. “We’ve faced thing like this before, and we’ve managed to win. This time isn’t going to be any different. I promise” 

“You can’t promise that,” Robin yelled, glaring up at him. “What if this is the time we don’t win? What if we get all the bombs but the one strapped to Tessa? What if she _dies_?” 

It’d be his fault. If she dies, it’d be because she knew him. Because the Joker heard about her with Robin and thought he’d use her against him. It was _exactly_ what he had been afraid of. Why he didn’t tell her the truth. Why he’d tried to keep her out of this part of his life. 

And now she was in the thick of it, only she didn’t know the truth. She didn’t know why, and the Joker probably thought she did, and he was just going to hurt her more because of it. She was going to be hurt because he’d thought the truth would hurt her, but it was the lies that were actually causing her pain. 

“The only way any of that is going to be true is if you don’t pull yourself together,” Nightwing said, putting his hands on his shoulders. “You need to have your head in the game right now, and that means not thinking about those what ifs. You need to focus on the problem at hand, and _only_ that. If you don’t, she’s going to pay the price for it. Do you want that?” 

“You know I don’t,” Robin snapped. 

“Then be the Robin I know you are, and we’ll all get through this.” 

He looked up at Nightwing. At the confidence on his face. The pure conviction that everything would turn out alright. 

“Okay,” he said, pulling up his hood. “Let’s find the other bombs.” 

“That’s the spirit,” he said, pulling him in for a quick hug. 

Damian shook his head but wrapped his arms around him in turn. 

Tessa might be hurting, she might be scared, but they were going to get her back. He was going to make sure of it. -

\-------------------------------------- 

“Fuck you,” Tessa spat, pulling against her chains. 

“Now, now, that’s not very nice,” the Joker said, wagging his finger at her. “I would have thought someone would have taught you some manners by now.” 

“Why don’t you unchain me and I’ll show just how amazing my manners are.” 

“Ah-ah,” he said. “That’s cheating, Tessie-dear.” 

She pulled against her chains again. She wanted to punch him in the face. Respectively. Give him some bruises in return for the ones he’d given her. 

Not that she could actually use her good arm. At some point, she’d dislocated her right shoulder, either from pulling on the chains or a well-placed hit by the Joker. The blinding pain that followed the pop had caused her to black out for about an hour, much to the Joker’s amusement. 

“You know, I thought they would’ve tried to get you by now,” he said, walking closer to her again. “Guess they don’t care as much as I thought.” 

She glared at him. “I’ve been telling you since the beginning.” 

“Oh, no, the little bird still _cares_ for you,” the Joker said, running a finger down her face. She jerked away. “I have it on good authority that he’s been an angry little bird the entire time he’s been flapping around the city.” 

Her heart twisted. She knew he was out there disarming the bombs, but god – she didn’t want to be reminded of it. Didn’t want to think about how many times he’d almost been blown up. Didn’t want to think about how he was probably slightly more reckless, slightly more stupid then he normally was. 

Because of her. Because she was here, and he was probably going insane out there with worrying, and it was leaving him distracted. 

She hoped Dick was with him. Or Cass. They’d make sure he wasn’t doing anything overly stupid. Make sure he was still being careful. 

“Maybe he’s just mad because you’re trying to blow up the city,” she said. 

“Nooooo, that’s not it,” he said, tapping her nose. “The city is almost blown up every other week, there’s no way he’d be mad about something as trivial as that anymore.” 

Trivial? Did he really just say that blowing up the city was _trivial_? 

There were over a million people in this city. How many of them would die if those bombs went off? How many would be left crippled? Homeless? Broke? How many would lose everything because of those bombs? 

There was nothing trivial about it. That’s why they weren’t here for her. Why she’d told them to save the city. Because her life wasn’t worth more than that. 

And she wasn’t saying that because she thinks her life doesn’t matter. For the first time in years, she actually did. But when it was her life over thousands of others, there was no question. No competition. No debate. The city came first. 

“Do you care at all about this city?” she spat. 

“Of course I do!” he said. “I love this city. Where else could I do something like this and fight someone who’s just as smart as me? Someone who has just as much pizzazz with the whole bat-aesthetic? This city is one of a kind.” 

“Then why are you blowing it up?” 

“Oh, don’t you have more faith in the bats than that?” he asked. “They’ll defuse the bombs, it just won’t leave enough to save you.” 

Her heart clenched. 

“See, the plan isn’t to blow up the city, it’s to blow up _you_ ,” he said, tapping her nose again. She snarled at him. “They’ll blame themselves, especially your little bird, and it’ll be _tons_ of fun to watch. I do love watching bats unravel after a loved one dies. The time I did it with Robin was marvelous. You really should have seen it.” 

She wanted to throw up. He had to be talking about Jason. Jason, who had died under mysterious circumstances and sent the entire city into mourning. Jason, who had been Robin once upon a time. Jason, who the Joker had apparently _killed_. 

God, he must be going out of his mind right now. Just as much as Damian. Maybe more. She’d heard about the Red Hood trying to kill the Joker years ago but… she hadn’t known. No one had. No one had made the connection. 

“Four hours left,” the Joker sang, tapping the bomb, a sick smile on his face. She smiled right back. “Can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone :)
> 
> Sorry I didn't update on wednesday, I got insanely busy with school cause it was midterms week and I was dying and just ran out of time to write this chapter the way I wanted to, but it's here now and I hope you like it.
> 
> Also, I don't know if you guys have a concept of how long this story is going to go, but in my head it's really starting to wind down. Or not down, cause climax, but wrap up. There's probably going to be six chapters? seven? left, and that's a rough estimate so it might be a little longer, mostly because endings are really hard for me because I don't want to say goodbye, but yeah. We're coming to the end :,,)
> 
> ALSO, also, I'm going to be participating in JonDami week cause I'm a slut for them, so if you're subscribed to be and get random emails this week (read:one since I've only written one of the eight fics so far) that's why :)
> 
> As always, feel free to leave comments or message me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/). Talking with you guys always makes my day :)


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to get Tessa back

“Uh-oh,” the Joker said, tapping the bomb. “Looks like you’ve only got an hour left! Anything you want to do before you die?” 

She lifted her head, glaring at the red numbers in front of her face. 00:59:57. An hour. An hour before the bomb in front of her blew up. Before she died. 

Tessa turned her glare on the Joker. “I’d love to break your nose. Or maybe your arm. Which one do you think would be better?” 

“Definitely the arm,” he said, tapping his chin. “It’d hurt _much_ more.” 

“Good choice, want to let me out so I can do it?” 

“Oooooo, sorry, but you’ve got to stay in that chair for another…” He looked back at the bomb. “58 minutes.” 

“Pity,” she ground out, pulling on the chains again. 

It didn’t do anything but hurt her shoulder. Not that she thought it would. Not that anything would. She wasn’t getting out of this chair unless someone let her, and even then, she couldn’t leave. Not with the collar the Joker had clasped around her neck that connected her to the bomb. 

She was stuck. Break the cord, and the bomb would go off. Someone would either have to get the collar off or defuse the bomb, and since she could do neither and the Joker wouldn’t and Damian… he wasn’t going to make it. And even if he did, there wouldn’t be enough time. Not unless he came within the next twenty minutes. 

But he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to keep defusing the bombs around the city and let this one kill her. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing back the tears. 

She didn’t want to die. God, she _didn’t_. She wanted to live. Wanted to be happy, and kiss Damian, and finally _live_. She wanted her life. And she wasn’t going to get it. 

She could accept that. She could accept this death, if only because of all the people that weren’t going to die. Her death meant that thousands of people in Gotham lived, and she was okay with dying for that. For them. 

But god, did it have to be this way? Damian was going to blame himself. It was going to ruin him. He was going to take the weight of all of this, just like he’d done when he’d found out about her dad, when he went out there to save people. She’d seen it. Again and again. He took every bad thing on his shoulders. 

This was going to break him. He wasn’t going to be able to add this to everything else without crumbling. 

And that? That hurt more than anything else. 

“Alright!” the Joker said, clapping his hands. “I’m going to go make sure everything’s ready for when the bats show up. It should be any minute now, so if you start to hear something… don’t worry about it.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

She didn’t want them here. Didn’t want them to try and rescue her. They couldn’t. It wasn’t going to work. And them getting this close and failing… no. No, she didn’t want that for them. Didn’t want to add that to the weight they’d all carry. 

She pulled against the chains, snarling, “Don’t you touch them.” 

“No promises,” he said, a sickening smile on his face. 

She tugged against the chains again, his laugh chasing after her as he left her alone with the bomb. 

\-------------------------------------------- 

“Done,” Father said, stepping back from the bomb. 

The timer flickered 00:37:12 before turning blank, the bomb shutting down. 

“Where is she?” Robin growled, clicking his comm. 

“Somewhere in the building that’s being constructed in the Upper East Side,” Oracle said. “Sending location now.” 

Everyone around him got a beep. Robin barely listened. He just walked over to his bike, slinging a leg over it and revving the engine. 

“We need a plan,” Father said, standing in front of the bike. 

“I have a plan,” Robin said, displaying the location on his bike. “Get Tessa back. Whatever it takes.” 

“I agree,” Red Hood said, climbing onto his own bike. 

“Same,” Batgirl said. Black Bat nodded next to her. 

Father’s lips tightened. 

He didn’t wait for the lecture. He just revved his engine and pulled around Father, racing towards Tessa. 

Towards Tessa. Finally, after eleven hours, he was moving towards her. 

Not fast enough. Not when it would take ten minutes to get there. When there were going to be obstacles to get to her. When they still had to defuse the bomb attached to her. Not when there would be less than thirty minutes when they finally reached the construction site. 

He leaned low over the handlebars, pushing his motorcycle faster. 

“Red Hood to Robin, come in.” 

Robin pressed the side of his helmet, activating his comms. “Robin to Red Hood, I read. Is this a separate line?” 

“Sure is,” he said. Next to him, he saw Red Hood pull up next to him, giving him a two-fingered salute. “Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page before we get there.” 

“I think we’re the only two people who are,” he ground out, taking a turn. 

“So we’re going to kill him?” he said. “Make sure he can’t hurt anyone like this ever again?” 

“If you don’t, I will,” he said, blowing through a red light. 

“Good.” 

Robin looked over at him. His brother. The one who the Joker had murdered when he was still a child. When Jason was his age now. The Joker had murdered him, and Father had let him live. 

He could understand why. Could understand Father’s code. But stopping people from killing him? Stopping Jason? Stopping him? He was done listening to the excuse that it was to save them. The Joker went in the ground tonight. 

“It’s your kill, akhi,” he said, looking at him. “If you want it.” 

He looked back. “You know, I don’t think you’ve called me brother in a long time.” 

He looked forward. “You were the first one I ever did.” 

There was a beat of silence. “I get the kill shot,” Red Hood said. “If I can, I’ll get him out and to a secure location so he can get what he deserves, but if not, I’m taking the shot.” 

“Fair enough,” he said. “Shoot him once for me, if it comes to that.” 

“I will,” he said. “You just focus on getting Tessa, yeah?” 

Robin looked at his brother and nodded. 

He didn’t care what was in that building. He was going in there, and he was getting Tessa out. She was coming out alive, and if he had to kill everyone in that building to do it so be it. 

“Batman to all points, come in.” 

His jaw tightened. He opened his line. “What.” 

“Our goal is Tessa,” he said. “Not the Joker. Understood.” 

He looked at the Red Hood. “Understood.” 

Jason nodded. 

“We create a path for Robin to get through,” Father continued. “She’s most likely being held on one of the upper floors, so we get him up there. Do not waste time. We’ll have just under thirty minutes when we get there. If he doesn’t make it to her within fifteen, the chances of everyone coming out are not high.” 

Robin’s face twisted into a snarl. “We’re all coming out.” 

“Make a path, get Robin through, and if possible, contain the Joker,” Father said. “Is that clear?” 

“Clear,” they all chorused. 

Damian skidded to a stop in front of the building, barely putting down his kickstand before climbing off the bike. The building was at least twenty stories tall, mostly constructed, but still covered in scaffolding with the top still needing windows. 

That’s where Tessa was going to be. At the top. 

He was going to get her back. She was going to be safe, and fine, and Jason was going to make sure that nothing like this could ever happen again. 

He looked at his brother. Jason pulled the hood off, holding it under his arm as he looked at the building. 

“Ready?” Father asked, coming up behind them. 

“Let’s do this thing,” Jason said, pulling the hood back on. 

Damian glanced up at the top again. 

Pulling up his own hood, he said, “Ready.” 

\--------------------------------------- 

A gunshot rang out below, making Tessa flinch. 

The Joker grinned. With a clap of his hands he stood up and said, “Well, that’s my cue!” He walked past her, patting her cheek. “It was very nice to meet you, Tessie.” 

She snarled, yanking against her chains. “Can’t say the same, unfortunately.” 

“Aww, I’m really going to miss this,” he said, pulling on his jacket. “Such a shame that your little bird fell for you. I think we could have gotten along rather nicely.” 

“Fuck you,” she spat. 

“Love you too!” he said, walking towards the door. “Have fun blowing up!” 

The door slammed shut before she could answer. 

Another gunshot echoed into her ears, this time a scream following after it. 

She looked at the bomb in front of her. 00:13:42. She shook her head, pulling against the chains. There wasn’t enough time. Not to defuse the bomb, not to get her out. The only thing they’d do by coming now is get themselves blown up along with her. 

A sob caught in her chest. She pulled against the chains— to warn them, to tell them to leave, to get herself out. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t get out of them, and even if she could… she couldn’t defuse the bomb. Couldn’t get the collar off her neck that attached her to it. Couldn’t do _anything_. 

All she could do was sit here and stare at the bomb, waiting for it to blow up. 

00:12:58 

00:12:57 

00:12:56 

00:12:55 

00:12:54 

Minutes. She had minutes left to live. 

There were so many things to think about. She had an entire life to look back on and the millions of possibilities that could have been if she wasn’t here, but as she stared down that timer, the flashing red numbers searing into her eyes, all she could think of was Damian. 

Her Damian. 

00:12:32 

00:12:31 

00:12:30 

00:12:29 

00:12.28 

The way he’d smirk instead of smile, half of his mouth lifting up and those green eyes – brighter than any green she’d ever seen with little flecks of brown and gold if you looked close enough – lighting up like he did when he’d tease her. But when he smiled, those full-blown, beautiful smiles that he only ever had when he was around her or his family, he never looked more beautiful. 

The little scar on his temple that stood out against his skin, and the countless others across his body. One day, she’d hoped he would tell her the story behind each of them. Each line, each burn, each mark on his skin. She’d wanted to know it all. 

00:12:14 

00:12:13 

00:12:12 

00:12:11 

00:12:10 

The pictures he had his room, all drawn by hand. The ones of the manor, the school, his pets, his siblings – and her. She’d found them one day, tucked into a drawer, dozens upon dozens of them. He’d started stammering when he came back in and saw her looking at them, but she’d just walked over and kissed him. 

Kissing Damian– god she was going to miss that. The soft, gentle kisses he’d give her, the ones that never felt rushed like they had all the time in the world. 

A tear slid down her face. They didn’t have all the time in the world. Not anymore. Not ever again. 

00:12:01 

00:12:00 

00:11:59 

00:11:58 

00:11:57 

She wanted that time. Wanted to spend it with him. Wanted to see if what they had was real, if it would last. If it would turn into something more someday. She thought it would. Thought they’d get a future together. One that was happy, and full, and had the two of them together in it. 

Now they wouldn’t even get the chance to try. 

It was all going to end before it’d even started. 

00:11:45 

00:11:44 

00:11:43 

00:11:4– 

The door burst open. 

She didn’t have to look to know who it was. 

She still looked anyway. 

At Robin, his hood pulled up to hide the majority of his face, the red and green uniform torn and dirty and his cape tattered at the ends. At Robin, holding a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, both stained red. At Robin, who was walking towards her, putting away the blades that he’d used to get to her. 

Her stomach flipped. She shook her head, pulling back against the chair. 

No. No, he couldn’t be here. He was going to get hurt. He was going to get blown up. There wasn’t time, there wasn’t anything either of them could do and she was trapped and he was _here_ and there wasn’t any time left and he _couldn’t be here_. 

00:11:37 

00:11:36 

00:11:35 

00:11:34 

00:11:33 

Damian dropped to a knee in front of her, pushing back his hood. Gently, he reached out for her, cupping her face with his hands. “Tessa?” 

A tear slid down her face. And god damn her, but she couldn’t help it; she leaned into his hand, even as her eyes flicked over his face. 

His hair was a mess, sticking up all over the place and slightly damp with sweat. There was a cut near his hairline, and a bruise on his cheek, but it was him. It was her Damian, and he was here, and she got to see him one last time. 

Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was stupid, but that was the only thing that was running through her head as he knelt before her, his eyebrows pulled together as he stared at her through the lenses on his mask. 

00:11:21 

00:11:20 

00:11:19 

00:11:18 

00:11:17 

Sniffling, Tessa let her lips tilt up ever so slightly as she said softly, “Hey.” 

Something between a laugh and a sob tore its way out of Damian's throat. She closed her eyes, heart aching. She’d never heard him make a sound like that before. Didn’t even know it was possible. 

“Stay still, okay?” he said, standing up and walking around her. “I’m going to get these chains off.” 

She shook her head. “No. No, you… you need to leave. There’s not enough time. You need to get out before the timer runs out.” 

“Not going to happen,” he said, and sliced through the chains. The fell to the floor with a clang. 

00:10:56 

00:10:55 

00:10:54 

00:10:53 

00:10:52 

“Robin–” God, she hated that she had to use that name. That he didn’t know, that someone could possibly overhear. “–there are ten minutes left before it explodes. Ten. That’s not– there isn’t time.” 

He walked in front of her, pushing her hair back and looking at the collar around her neck. “How did he attach this?” 

She grabbed his arm with the hand not attached to her dislocated shoulder. “Please, Robin, go. I can’t— you don’t need to die.” 

His hands balled into fists. “Neither do you.” 

“There isn’t time–” 

“I’ll make time.” 

“You can’t!” she said, a sob catching in her throat. “You can’t just make more time appear, the bomb is going to go off, and there isn’t enough time to defuse it, and there isn’t enough time to get this stupid collar off, so _you need to go_.” 

“I’m not leaving you!” 

00:10:27 

00:10:26 

00:10:25 

00:10:24 

00:10:23 

“You have to,” she said, her hand tightening around his wrist. “You have to leave me.” 

Damian shook his head, kneeling down in front of her. Even through his mask, she could feel his eyes burning into her. Taking her hands, he said, “I am only going to say this once: I am not leaving you. There is nothing you can say or do to make me leave. Either we walk out of this room together, or we don’t walk out at all.” 

She shook her head, tears sliding down her face. “I’m not going to be the reason you die.” 

“I’m not planning on either of us dying,” he said, squeezing her hands. “But for that to happen I need to work, which means you need to trust me.” 

Trust him. Trust Damian. He was asking her to trust him. The one person she trusted explicitly. 

00:10:04 

00:10:03 

00:10:02 

00:10:01 

00:10:00 

“Okay,” she said, meeting his eyes. 

“Okay.” He said, standing up and taking the cord connecting her to the bomb. “I’m going to cut thi–” “

No!” she screamed, reaching for him. He froze. “If you cut it, the bomb explodes.” 

Damian frowned, dropping the cord. Pressing hand to his chest, he said, “Oracle?” 

00:09:52 

00:09:51 

00:09:50 

00:09:49 

00:09:48 

Damian’s mouth tightened. Whoever Oracle was – maybe Babs? – had apparently confirmed what she’d said. Looking between the collar and the bomb, Damian asked, “Which one should I do?” 

She bit her tongue to keep from telling him to leave again. To tell him it wouldn’t work, that she wasn’t getting out, that she needed him to. She needed him to live. To go on, even if she didn’t. 

But if trying would make him feel better, then she could stay quiet until there wasn’t any time left. She could wait. If only because it meant she would get to stay with him for a little longer. She could pretend this would work, pretend that he would get her out, pretend that they would have that future. She could let it go on for just a little bit longer. 

And if he stayed, he’d be the last thing she saw before– before. She wouldn’t mind him being the last thing she saw. Wouldn’t mind the image of his face following her to whatever came next. 

00:09:25 

00:09:24 

00:09:23 

00:09:22 

00:09:21 

“Alright Tessa, I’m going to get the collar off, but I need you to hold your hair out of the way,” he said. 

Trying not to groan, she pulled a hair-tie off her wrist and held it out to him. “Put my hair up with this.” 

Damian stared at her. He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “How do you still have a hair-tie after all of this?” 

Her lips twitched up. “I don’t know, but put my hair up. I can’t because of my shoulder.” 

His smile fell, his eyes looking at her shoulders. His hands tightened. “Why didn’t you tell me your shoulder’s dislocated?” 

“Because it’s not important,” she said, shaking the hair-tie. “Now put my hair up and do what you need to do.” 

Damian took it, gently taking her hair and twisting it into a bun. 

00:09:06 

00:09:05 

00:09:04 

00:09:03 

00:09:02 

“Stay still, okay?” he said, moving behind her. “Oracle, tell me what to do.” 

Tessa held as still as she could. It became harder with each passing second. Everything was finally catching up: the fear, the pain, the exhaustion, the anger. It was all draining out of her body with the adrenaline, and her consciousness was going with it. 

She squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again. Nine minutes. All she had to do was stay awake for nine minutes. She could do that. She could sit still and stay awake for nine minutes. If that’s what it took for Damian to be okay with this, she could do it. 

00:08:49 

00:08:48 

00:08:47 

00:08:46 

00:08:45 

Behind her, Damian swore. 

Her heart skipped a beat. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, it just shocked me,” he said. “Did it hurt you?” 

“No,” she said. “I didn’t even feel it.” 

She waited a beat. Another. Pressed her lips together. Letting out a long breath, she said, “Don’t hurt yourself, okay? Not for me.” 

She heard Damian still behind her. “Don’t worry,” he said, starting to work again. “I’ve taken much worse than a little shock.” 

She bit her lip to keep from saying _I know_. 

00:08:17 

00:08:16 

00:08:15 

00:08:14 

00:08:13 She heard something behind her pop. Her heart skipped a beat. That didn’t sound good. At all. What t

he hell popped like that? Did they just set off the bomb? Were they both going to explode? 

“Here,” Damian said, handing her a small piece of metal. “Hold this.” 

She took it, flipping it over in her hands. Her heart settled back to a normal rate. It was just a piece of the collar. A thin, smooth rectangle that was shorter than her thumb and a little bit wider. She frowned. “What is this?” 

“A part of the collar,” he said. “It fell off.” 

00:07:40 

00:07:39 

00:07:38 

00:07:37 

00:07:36 

When did time start moving so slow? Each second seemed to drag, a millennium happening within each one. She could feel each beat of her heart, hear each tiny click as Damian worked behind her, feel the ice that was starting to bite into her skin. Everything felt exaggerated, every movement, every blink, every breath. It all felt unreal. 

But it was real. The heat from Damian. The pain in her body. The hard metal of the chair. The ticking bomb in front of her. It was real. And time kept ticking away with it. 

00:07:01 

00:07:00 

00:06:59 

00:06:58 

00:06:57 

“I’m not doing that,” Damian hissed. 

Tessa frowned, half turning when she felt him step away. Do what? What was Oracle telling him to do? 

“Because it could hurt her,” Damian snapped. “Find a different solution.” 

“No,” she said. Damian’s head snapped towards her. “If Oracle has a solution, do it.” 

“It’ll hurt you.” His hands balled into fists. 

“So will blowing up.” 

00:06:23 

00:06:22 

00:06:21 

00:06:20 

00:06:19 

Damian stared at her, his mouth tightening. Then he reached into one of the many pockets around his waist and pulled out a small metal circle. 

He held it up in front of her. “This is a low-level EMP. It’s used to short-circuit any electronic devices nearby, and with this lock being a magnetic one, it should short-circuit it and make it release. It won’t cause any lasting damage, but you might feel an electric shock.” 

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” she said, forcing a smile. 

Damian’s mouth just tightened more. Without another word, he leaned forward and placed the device on the back of the collar. 

A shock shot down her spine, painful enough that she felt herself twitch. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming, squeezing her eyes closed and waiting for the pain to be over. 

00:05:48 

00:05:47 

00:05:46 

00:05:45 

00:05:44 

She breathed hard, blinking her eyes slowly as the aftershocks settled into her bones. 

“Are you okay?” Damian asked, kneeling in front of her. 

“Yeah,” she said, focusing on breathing. Deep, even breaths that stopped the tremors that wanted to make her arms shake. “Yeah, I’m good. Did it work?” 

Damian flicked his eyes over her face one more time before standing up and walking behind her. He didn’t say anything. His silence was enough. 

00:05:15 

00:05:14 

00:05:13 

00:05:12 

00:05:11 

“Try a stronger pulse,” she said, looking over her shoulder. 

“You nearly passed out from that one,” Damian said, crossing his arms. 

She glared. “I did not. And if it works, who cares if I pass out?” 

“You have lost more blood than you should, most likely have a concussion, and have multiple opens wounds. I’m not going to electrocute you on the off chance that it’ll work. There has to be a better solution.” 

“There’s not enough time to find out what that better solution is.” 

00:04:44 

00:04:43 

00:04:42 

00:04:41 

00:04:40 

Snarling, Damian pulled out another small device, identical to the one that he’d pulled out previously. At least, she couldn’t tell the difference. But this one was stronger. This one was going to hurt more. 

She clamped her jaw shut, trying to relax her muscles as much as she could. It was always better to be relaxed. To let whatever it was run through your muscles, not get stuck in them. 

Damian pressed the device to the collar and took a step back. 

The electric shock that shot through her body made her scream. 

00:04:08 

00:04:07 

00:04:06 

00:04:05 

00:04:04 

“Tessa,” Damian screamed, kneeling down in front of her and taking her face in his hands again. “Tessa, look at me, damnit. Open your eyes and _look at me_.” 

She blinked her eyes open, a tear sliding down her face. Voice hoarse, she croaked, “I’m fine.” 

“You’re not,” Damian said softly, brushing away her tear. “You can barely open your eyes.” 

She shook her head, pushing his hands away. Reaching up she tugged on the collar. It didn’t budge. 

00:03:39 

00:03:38 

00:03:37 

00:03:36 

00:03:35 

“Do it again,” she said, forcing her eyes open fully. 

“No,” Damian growled. “If that didn’t work, doing it again won’t change that. I’m not going to hurt you for no reason.” 

She opened her mouth to argue, to say something, but words failed her. She couldn’t… she couldn’t _think_. Everything was hazy, blurry, fuzzy. Like there was a film over the world, or she was underwater. It all just felt _off_. 

Damian stood up, walking around behind her and doing something with the lock. She tried to sit up straight. She didn’t. Instead she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and putting her head in her hands. 

00:03:02 

00:03:01 

00:03:00 

00:02:59 

00:02:58 

“Tessa, I need you to sit up,” Damian said, tugging gently on her shoulder. 

She groaned but let him tug her to a seated position. Everything ached. And she wanted to sleep. Wanted this to be over already. Wanted to go _home_. 

But she was home. Because Damian was here, and he was her home. She was home, and in two minutes she was going to lose him. Lose everything. And if he didn’t leave, he was going to lose everything too. 

00:02:31 

00:02:30 

00:02:29 

00:02:28 

00:02:27 

“Robin.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he growled. She heard the scrape of metal on metal. He was trying to pry the collar open. A last, futile attempt. 

“Robin, you have to go,” she said, voice catching in her throat. “If you don’t go now you’re not going to make it out.” 

“I told you,” he said with a grunt. “We either walk out of here together, or not at all.” 

00:02:01 

00:02:00 

00:01:59 

00:01:58 

00:01:57 

She closed her eyes, tears sliding down her face. It hurt. It fucking _hurt_. The conviction in his voice, the love, the overwhelming emotion that washed over her as he did everything he could to save her. But everything wasn’t enough. Nothing would be. 

“Robin, please,” she said, voice shaking. “You have to go.” 

“No,” he said, and she heard his voice shake. Another tear slid down her face. 

“Please,” she said, _begged_. 

“I’m not letting you die,” he growled. 

“And I can’t let you, either,” she said, turning around and putting a hand on his face. “I can’t let you die for me.” 

00:01:32 

00:01:31 

00:01:30 

00:01:29 

00:01:28 

“Neither of us are going die,” Damian said. “I refuse to let either of us die.” A tear slid down his face. 

Her heart broke. She felt it utterly shatter in her chest at the site of that tear. Gently she wiped it away, smoothing her thumb over his cheek. He leaned into the touch. 

Smiling slightly, she said, “I’m not getting out of this. You’ve done everything you can. Now you need to leave. You need to save yourself. Please, Robin, save yourself.” 

“My job is to save you,” he said. Gently he reached out, turning her back around and starting to work on the collar again. “Now let me do it.” 

“Robin–” Her voice faltered. She didn’t know what to say. What to do. What it would take to get him to leave. All she knew was that he had to leave, now, before there wasn’t enough time to get out at all. 

00:01:04 

00:01:03 

00:01:02 

00:01:01 

00:01:00 

A minute. He had a minute to get out. A minute to find his way out of this building, wherever the hell it was. A minute to get far enough away that the bomb wouldn’t hurt him. A minute to leave her here, alone, to die. 

00:00:53 

She expected the fear to come back. For it to swarm up around her and consume her whole. But all she felt was numb— numb, and the pulsing need to make sure Damian got out. Whatever it took. Even if that meant moving so he couldn’t work on the collar anymore. 

00:00:46 

“Robin, you need to find a way out,” she said. Again. Because she didn’t want to force him. Because she didn’t want to take away his choice. 

“I have a way out,” he said. “And you’re coming with me.a” 

00:00:38 

“There isn’t time.” 

“There’s enough.” 

00:00:31 

“There’s only seconds left.” 

“I only need ten.” 

00:00:27 

“Either you leave, or I move.” 

_“Don’t you dare.”_

00:00:22 

“Three seconds, and then I move.” 

“Tessa.” 

“One.” 

00:00:20 

“Two.” 

“I swear to god–” 

00:00:19 

“Three.” 

“Don’t–” 

00:00:18 

She moved. And the collar fell from her neck, clattering to the floor. 

She looked at Damian, unable to speak. All she could do was reach up, feeling the empty space where the collar had been. 

00:00:15 

“I told you,” he said, smiling at her. “Together, or not at all.” 

A sob wracked through her body. She stumbled into him, barely able to stand. 

00:00:12 

“Not now,” he said, standing her. “We have to go.” 

He took her hand, running towards the wall of tarps. Away from the door. 

00:00:10 

“The doors the other way,” she shouted. She didn’t stop running. 

“Trust me,” he said. “And get ready to jump.” 

00:00:07 

Jump. He said jump. Where were they? Why were they going to jump? What were they jumping into? 

00:00:06 

She ran. Didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t question anything for a second. She just let him pull her after him. 

00:00:05 

A wall came up in front of her. A wall with a hole with buildings through it. 

00:00:04 

They were going to jump out of a building. She was going to jump out of a _building_. 

00:00:03 

“Jump!” 

00:00:02 

Air. There was air all around her, and buildings stretching towards the sky, and pavement below. 

00:00:01 

A scream caught in her throat. 

00:00:00 

The bomb exploded, the blast burning into her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooooooooo. Idk how much of a cliffhanger this is, but if it's bothering you sorry lol. It just felt like a good place to end so I stopped.
> 
> Thank you to Mystik_Owl for editing this chapter this morning and being the bestest. Luv ya.
> 
> As always, feel free to talk to me in the comments or message me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/) :)


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jumping out of buildings isn't always the best idea.

The bomb exploded above them. 

Damian didn’t think. He just grabbed Tessa and tucked her under him as they fell, shielding her as much as possible from the blast. He felt it burn into his skin, felt the little pieces of rubble that rained down, heard the building start to creak and groan. 

He held onto her tighter and shouted, “Hold on tight.” 

He barely waited for Tessa to wrap her arms around his neck. Didn’t have time to. Not when the ground was racing towards them, when the building they’d just exited was starting to crumble. He just shot his grapple at the nearest building and held onto her as tight as he could. 

The pull as the line went taught nearly dislocated his shoulder. 

Then they were swinging, heading towards solid ground. He saw his family already off to the side, watching as the building slowly settled back into place. As it didn’t all crumble to the ground, saving who knows how many people. 

His feet hit the ground. He released the grapple, wrapping his arms around Tessa as they tumbled to the floor, unable to stop the momentum from their swing. 

He tried to shield her. Tried to take the brunt of it. Tried to make sure she didn’t get more hurt than she already was. 

When they finally stopped rolling he landed on his back, Tessa’s head leaning against his chest. They were both breathing hard, with new scraps and bruises on their arms and legs, but nothing felt broken. Nothing felt wrong. Nothing but the worry coiling in his chest. 

Heart pounding he gently sat up, moving Tessa off his chest and taking her face in his hands, looking her over for any new injuries. Road burn on her arm, a bruise forming on her calf, a small cut on her cheek. Possibly bruised ribs, from the way her hand went there, or maybe she just had the wind knocked out of her. 

He felt her hand on his own, gently pulling it away. “I’m fine.” 

He frowned. “No, you’re not. You have multiple injuries, all of which need medical attention.” 

She closed her eyes, leaning forward until her head rested against his shoulder. His heart skipped a beat. God, it felt so good to see her. To be able to touch her. To know she was _safe_. 

“So take me to a hospital,” she mumbled into his shoulder. 

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around her. “No. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” 

“Robin, that’s not…” 

He stopped listening. All he could hear was her calling him Robin over and over again in his head. Because she didn’t know. She didn’t know he was Robin. Which meant that all of this… 

He jerked back, his arms falling back down to his sides. 

Tessa looked up at him, her eyebrows pulling together. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“No,” he said, his eyes flicking over her face. She didn’t look… uncomfortable. Then again, it might just be the shock. “I just… we don’t really know… I felt like I might be overstepping.” 

Her face softened. “It’s fine. You just saved me from blowing up and we jumped out of a building together. I don’t think there’s much of a line to step over right now.” 

The smile that slid across her face had his stomach flipping. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her tight and kiss her and tell her he loved her. He closed his eyes and croaked out, “Okay.” 

“Okay,” she said, and he could hear a slight laugh in her voice. “But if you want me to get medical help I need to go to a hospital, and I don’t think you can stay with me without raising questions.” 

“No,” he said, his eyes flying open. He reached out, taking her hand. “You’re not going to the hospital, I’m taking you back to the cave with me.” 

Tessa blinked. “…What?” 

“Can you stand?” he asked. 

“I–” she stared up at him, looking at his offered hand like she’d never seen one before. “Isn’t that– I can’t go– people don’t– won’t Batman–” 

He shook his head, offering his hand again. “I’ll deal with Batman if he has a problem.” 

Their eyes met. He could see the hesitation in hers. And a question, one that he couldn’t quite read. Sighing, he held that gaze and said, “Trust me.” 

He swore he saw a ghost of a smile twitch across her lips at those words. He swore he did. But the moment he blinked it was gone, as if it hadn’t been there at all. 

But she took his hand. He pulled her to her feet. And caught her a moment later when she swayed, nearly falling to the ground again. 

She snorted. “Maybe I can’t stand.” 

“It’s okay,” he said, slinging his arm around her waist to support her. “I’ve got you.” 

This time he was sure he saw the smile that slid across her face between one blink of the eye and the next. 

Damian pressed a button on his cuff. A moment later, the Batmobile pulled up in front of them. 

Carefully, Damian walked Tessa around the car and helped her into the passenger seat. She was barely paying attention to him. She just kept looking at the Batmobile, her mouth hanging slightly open as she looked at it. He pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. 

“Robin, I agree with you,” Oracle said into his earpiece, “but are you sure you want to do this without telling B?” 

“Tell him for me, would you?” he said, closing Tessa’s door. So much like he had when her leg had been broken. 

That felt like a lifetime ago. Everything felt so different now, so much more complicated. This hadn’t been a part of them. All this that came with his other life. None of that had touched her then, and now she was sitting in the Batmobile, hurt in more ways than one and kidnapped by the worst Gotham had to offer. 

“Robin, I really think you’re the one who needs to tell him.” 

“I don’t want to get into an argument with Tessa here,” he said, glancing at her through the front windshield. Her head was on the door, her eyes drifting shut. 

“He’s still going to argue with you after I tell him.” 

“Not if I turn my comms off.” 

“Robin.” 

“Please, Oracle, for me.” 

He could practically hear her teeth grinding together. “Fine,” she said. “Just… don’t tell her, okay?” 

He straightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yes, you do,” she said. “Oracle out.” 

He clenched his jaw. How had she known that he was planning on telling Tessa the truth? He hadn’t told anyone. Not even Dick. She shouldn’t know that. 

Sighing through his nose, he walked around the hood and slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Tessa. She was half-asleep on the door, slumped with her neck at a weird angle and definitely not sitting in any sort of safe position, but at least she had her seatbelt on. It wasn’t like they were going to crash anyway. There were numerous security precautions built into the car to prevent just that. 

And besides, she deserved to rest. After everything that had happened today, sleep was probably the best things she could do to heal. 

Taking the wheel, Damian pulled onto the street, driving as fast as he could without waking her up. 

Fifteen minutes later he pulled into the cave. Neither Barbara nor Alfred were inside. He tried not to be angry about it. Tessa didn’t know their identities, which meant they couldn’t be there. It was a safety precaution. One that they shouldn’t _have_ to have when it comes to Tessa. “Hey,” Damian said, laying a hand on her shoulder and gently shaking her awake. “We’re here.” 

Tessa blinked her eyes open, her gaze going to him first. And then out the front windshield, her eyes roaming around the cave. He let her look. The first time he’d seen it, he’d wanted a chance to look around too. He could give her a moment to process all of it before they– 

She snorted. “You know, this is exactly what I thought something called the Batcave would look like.” 

He stared at her, a laugh slipping out of his mouth. 

She looked at him, a tired grin stretching across her face. His chest ached looking at it. 

“Come on,” he said, opening his door. “Let’s get you patched up.” 

He walked around to her door, helping her out the rest of the way and then walking her over to their med-bay, sitting her down on the table in the middle of the room. 

“Alright, I’m going to pop your shoulder back into place first,” he said, walking around behind her. “Do you know how much it hurts?” 

“Yup,” she said, popping the p. 

“On three then,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “One, two–” 

He popped it back into place. Tessa groaned, her other hand going to her shoulder. Mock glaring, she said, “You forgot to say three.” 

He smiled at the ground, walking over to the supply closet and pulling out the first-aid kit, then filling a bowl up with warm water and grabbing a clean towel. Walking back over to her, he set the first aid kit and the bowl down next to her. “Does anything need stitches?” 

“I don’t think so,” she said, frowning down at her body. “Nothing that I can feel, anyway.” 

“Alright, then I’m gonna…” he dipped the towel in the warm water and started gently wiping the dirt and blood off her face. 

When all of it was gone, he grabbed two butterfly band-aids and used them to pull the cut on her right temple closed. The rest was bruising, except for the scratch on her cheek. He brushed a thumb over it. “This isn’t big enough for a band-aid.” 

“Okay,” she breathed, looking at his face, a slight crease between her brows. 

He coughed, turning away from her. He took a deep breath. He couldn’t tell her. Not until he talked to Father. And he couldn’t let her figure it out from looking at his face too long, either. Which was hard when he was trying to patch her up. 

He looked up at the ceiling, then turned back around to face her. “Where else hu–” 

He didn’t get to finish. The roar of multiple motorcycles echoed into the cave, and between one blink and the next they were all there, taking off their helmets. 

Damian stared at all of them, looking for injuries. He didn’t find any, at least, not any bad ones. They were covered in dust, and looked a little worse for wear, but there wasn’t much blood, and none of their uniforms were torn in overly noticeable ways. From what he could see all they had were bruises and scratches. 

And angry looks on their faces. 

“Wait here,” Damian said, barely glancing at her before jogging over to them. 

“–all the irresponsible, reckless, idiotic things that you’ve done this one takes the cake. I thought we were past this by now.” 

Jason snorted, crossing his arms. “If you think we’re past this, you don’t know me at all.” 

Damian flicked his eyes to his brother. “So you did it?” 

All heads spun towards him. He ignored all of them, looking at Jason. 

His jaw tightened. “ _Batman_ over there got to him before I could. He’s safe in his cell back in Arkham.” 

He saw red. His hand twitched towards his katana. 

He and Todd could break into Arkham and do it. It wouldn’t be hard. Not when they’d let him stroll right in there, no questions asked. And even if they didn’t, even if Father told them not to, they could get in. It’d be harder, but it wasn’t impossible. He’d memorized the layout when he was ten. Getting in and out without being seen wouldn’t be the problem. The problem would be– 

“You were in on this,” Father growled, taking a step towards him. He jutted his chin in the air. “You two _planned to kill him_?” 

“Yes.” 

Dick sucked in a breath. “Little D…” 

“He has hurt too many people,” he said, looking at all of them. “He has killed _hundreds_ if not _thousands_ of people, and if that’s not enough for you to want him off the playing board, he’s hurt _three_ people in our own family now.” 

“We. Do. Not. Kill,” Father growled. 

“No, _you_ don’t,” Damian spat, taking a step closer until they were toe to toe. 

“Robin–” 

“I’ve killed,” he said. “So has Hood. We’re not asking you to compromise your morals. We’re asking you to stay out of our way.” 

“This isn’t the answer,” Dick said. “I know he’s hurt people, I know he just hurt Tessa, but he’s back in Arkham–” 

“How long until he gets out?” Jason spat. “How long until he hurts someone again? A month? Six? A year?” 

“We’ll deal with it when he does,” Father said. 

“And how many will die before we do?” Damian asked. 

“Hey,” Steph said, pushing them apart. “This isn’t the time. Right now, we have to take care of Tessa.” 

Damian pressed his lips together. 

Tessa came first. She always came first. But as soon as he knew she was alright, as soon as she was resting in her bedroom upstairs, they were having this conversation. And then he was going to help Jason kill the Joker. 

Father looked at her. “Is she okay?” 

“For the most part,” he said. “She needs x-rays to make sure nothing’s broken or bleeding internally, but from what I can tell it’s just some cuts and bruises, maybe a broken rib and a concussion, but that’s the worst of it.” 

“Good,” Father said, taking a step until he stood next to him. 

Silence fell. He could feel Father wanted to say something. The words were basically emanating off him. Sighing, he said, “Say it.” 

“Did you tell her?” 

“No,” Damian said. He turned to face him. “But I’m going to.” 

Father faced him, crossing his arms. “No.” 

His hands balled into fists. “After everything she just went through–” 

“That’s the exact reason she shouldn’t know,” he said. “If she had, she could have told the Joker something.” 

Damian laughed, the sound cruel. “She’s in the cave. If she gets taken again, she already has something she can say, and she’ll have no reason to keep it a secret.” 

“Better that then knowing our identities,” he said. 

“I agree with Damian,” Steph said. “She deserves to know.” 

“Seconded,” Jason said, still glaring at Father. 

“I think that we need to think this through more,” Tim said. “When we’re not all hyped up on adrenaline.” 

“I’m with Tim,” Dick said. Damian felt his heart twist. “Sorry Little D, but this isn’t some rash decision we can run in on. We have to think this through carefully.” 

“I _have_ thought this through carefully,” he said. “And I’m going to tell her.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“You can’t stop me.” 

“Watch me.” 

“I’d love to see you tr–” 

“I already know.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------- 

“I already know.” 

Tessa leaned against the door of their makeshift infirmary, one hand pressed to her stomach as she stared at them. They all stared back, faces going hard. The same look they always got when they were putting up their walls. 

She hadn’t planned to admit it. She hadn’t really ever planned to. Damian would tell her when he was ready, and she _wanted_ him to tell her, but… she couldn’t stand them arguing. Not over this. Not over telling her the truth. It made her skin crawl. 

“What?” Dick said. 

“I know who you guys are,” she said, trying to stand up straight. It didn’t quite work. 

There was a silence that stretched so long she could feel it in her bones. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could do this. She could stand in front of them and say this. After everything they’ve been through, after today, she could face this truth. 

“Whoever you think we are, I assure you you’re wrong,” Bruce said, that Batman-scowl on his face. If she wasn’t so tired, if she didn’t know who was under the cowl, she would have been terrified. 

Instead, she just stared right back. “Bruce, please. I think we’re at a point where we don’t have to pretend.” 

Because that was it. After today, after being held by the Joker for twelve-plus hours, after her dad… she was done pretending. Done playing the game where she didn’t know what was going on. Done lying for them when they didn’t want to tell her the truth. 

She looked at all of them. They were all still staring at her, but now… now there was confusion, eyes looking her over, them looking at each other. Because they’d heard her call him Bruce. And Damian– Damian was looking at her like she’d somehow grown another head and he didn’t understand what was happening in front of him. 

The only person who hadn’t flinched was Cass. She’d just nodded when Tessa finally looked at her. 

A prompting. To continue. To keep going. A small little smile twitched across her face. Of course Cass had figured out she knew the truth. 

“My name is not Bruce–” 

“Your name is Bruce Wayne,” Tessa said, finally pulling herself up straight. She could have sworn she felt Cass grinning at her. “Do you want me to convince you of that, or can you just believe me?” 

Bruce stared at her. He didn’t say a word. 

Tessa sighed. “Alright,” she said. “Nightwing over there is Dick, Hoodie is Jason, Red Robin is Tim, Batgirl is Steph, Black Bat is Cass–” She met Damian’s eyes. “–and Robin is Dami.” 

She looked back at Bruce. “I know all of this because I’m dating Robin, a fact that I found out almost a month ago when he saved me from Poison Ivy– and before you turn and yell at him, it’s not his fault. He didn’t tell me, he didn’t say anything to tip me off, I just knew because I know him, like I know all of you, and once I saw Dami out there playing superhero every weird thing that your entire family did suddenly made sense. 

“I know this,” she said, still looking at him, still holding that gaze that was judging her, “because you all took me in in a way that I never thought possible and showed me what it meant to live, and knowing the other part of you explained every question I had about why you were so willing to help me. I just didn’t say anything because I thought, eventually, when you all were ready and trusted me, you would tell me the truth. 

“But I’m not going to sit here and listen to you argue about something that I already know. Today has been a very, _very_ long day and I don’t want to end it with arguing,” she said. “And I think after today, I deserve the truth.” 

She felt Damian staring at her, a slightly panicked look on his face. For half a second she thought it was because of what she’d said. Then Bruce started walking towards. 

It was supposed to be intimidating. In the back of her head, she knew that. But it just… wasn’t. After the Joker, after facing her own dad, watching Bruce walk towards her in his full Batman gear, his mouth pressed into a thin line, wasn’t all that intimidating. 

She looked at him, freely holding his gaze. He stopped right in front of her, staring down at her, scanning her face. 

And then he pushed off his cowl. 

His entire face softened. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he said, “Alright. The truth. But please get back on the table before you hurt yourself.” 

She felt her entire body tip forward at the words. Bruce caught her, swinging her up into his arms and gently sitting her back onto the table. 

Then Damian was there, still in the Robin uniform but without the mask, holding her tight and pressing a kiss to her forehead and whispering something that she couldn’t hear into her hair. He ran his thumb over her cheek and– and she was crying. God, she hadn’t even realized. When the hell had she started? 

She felt the rest of them around her – a hand on her shoulder, someone sitting on her other side, voices at her back – and it should have felt overwhelming. It should have felt like she couldn’t breathe, but all it felt like was right. 

“Alright, that is quite enough,” Alfred said. She felt a sob rock through her body at his voice. “I need to get her patched up, and all of you need to patch each other up, so get to it.” 

The others slowly started moving away from her. All of them but Damian. He didn’t move an inch, his body pressed against her side and his hand holding her own. 

“Master Damian, I meant you too,” Alfred said gently. 

“I’m staying.” 

A smile twitched across her lips. She turned her head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Go, Dami. I promise I won’t go anywhere.” 

He sighed through his nose. “Fine. If you need me, I’ll be right outside.” 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and walked out of the room. She watched him head straight for Dick, already starting to take off his Robin costume. 

“Shall we do the x-rays first?” 

She smiled at Alfred. “Whatever you think is best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo. Sorry I didn't post on Saturday, I've had a rough week. I had this mostly written but I didn't have the energy to finish and edit, and honestly I'm still a little low so if this chapter feels off in any way that's why. I'll probably go back and edit this one once everything's all done, but I wanted to get this up so here it is.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has supported this in any and all forms that you have. I was reading back through comments this weekend to make me feel better and each and every one of them helped, so thank you so much for that.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave a comment or message me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/) :)


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa talks Damian down

“Alright, Miss Tessa,” Alfred said, smoothing tape over the last piece of gauze he’d wrapped around her arm. “I think we are finally done.” 

Tessa smiled tiredly at him, trying to push back the exhaustion that’d been creeping up on her these last two hours for just a little longer. She could keep her eyes open for ten more minutes. Just ten. Long enough to talk to Damian, who’d been sitting in the corner for the majority of the time Alfred had been doing x-rays and cleaning out her cuts and covering her with bandages. 

So many bandages. She felt like at least seventy-five percent of her was wrapped in them. Quite honestly she wouldn’t be surprised if she looked like she was wearing some shitty mummy costume. 

Not that she was complaining. She’d take the bandages any day. The way that someone else was the one who carefully cleaned and wrapped her wounds. She’d never had that before. Not with the careful way Alfred did it, the movements smooth and practiced. 

Tessa reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. “Thanks, Alfred.” 

“You don’t need to thank me, Miss Tessa,” he said, squeezing her hand back. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” 

Her throat tightened. 

“I’m going to go make sure the others have taken care of themselves,” Alfred said. He glanced at Damian, then back to her. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” 

She nodded, pressing her lips together. She refused to cry. She’d cried enough today. Enough for a lifetime. She would very much be okay with never crying again. 

As soon as Alfred walked out of the room Damian stood up and sat down besides her. She threaded her fingers through his, leaning her head against his shoulder. She felt Damian relax next to her, a long breath pushing out from between his lips. 

“I’m okay,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. 

He leaned his head on top of her own. “I know.” 

For a long moment they just sat there and breathed. Tessa let her eyes fall shut, the solid weight of him next to her loosening the knot in her chest. 

Never in a million years would she have guessed that Damian Wayne would become her rock. Sitting here, the sense of peace settling over her even after everything… she didn’t think it was possible— didn’t think that she would ever find this, that it was even real. She’d always heard the stories of true love and all that bullshit, but she didn’t think it actually existed. 

But here she was. Beaten and hurting with her heart still torn to shreds, yet sitting next to him, none of it seemed to matter. 

She squeezed his hand. “Do you remember how we met?” 

She heard Damian huff a laugh. “That first day in English class. You were arguing with some asshole who wouldn’t shut up, and I sided with you and saved you from him.” 

She hit his leg, tilting her head back to glare at him. 

Damian laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Not that you needed saving,” he mumbled into her hair. 

She closed her eyes, breathing in the feeling. “Damn right I didn’t.” 

She could feel Damian’s smile against her skin. 

“What were we arguing about? Something about Macbeth and–” 

“And Duncan,” Damian said. “The asshole was trying to convince us that Macbeth was justified in killing… him.” 

She felt Damian sit up, his eyes locking on the top her head. Slowly she did the same, meeting that gaze. She could see him trying to figure how much she knew— but she’d heard everything. How he and Jason had planned to kill the Joker. How they failed. How they’ve both… how Damian has killed before. 

She still couldn’t wrap her head around that. The idea of Damian killing someone… it just didn’t make sense. She couldn’t picture it. Not even when he slipped into whatever place he went where that calm-fury took over. 

But he had. There hadn’t been any room for doubt in those words. None of the others had even seemed surprised. Damian has killed someone before. 

The thought made her sick to her stomach. 

“And what did you say to him?” she asked softly. 

His eyes flicked over her face, his eyebrows pulling together. “I said…” His eyes flicked down. After a long moment, he let out a long sigh and met her gaze again. “I said even if there is a reason, murder is murder. It’s inexcusable, no matter what.” 

She stretched her hand forward, laying it on his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. A soft smile stretched across her face, even as her heart twisted so hard it hurt. 

“It’s the Joker, Tess,” he said, opening his eyes and meeting her gaze. “He hurt you. He tried to _kill_ you. I can’t sit here and do nothing.” 

“You’re not doing nothing.” She ran her thumb over his cheek. “You stopped him. You saved me, and everyone else in the city he was threatening to blow up. That’s not nothing.” 

“He’s going to get out again.” 

“And when he does, you’ll stop him.” 

“And people will die before I can,” he said, pulling away from her. 

She let her hand drop to her lap. “Killing him isn’t the answer.” 

“It’s the only answer that makes sure he never hurts anyone again.” 

“Maybe,” she said. “But it’s not the right one.” 

Damian huffed, sliding off the table and starting to pace in front of her. She watched him, letting him sort out whatever thoughts were racing through his head. 

It wasn’t like she could do anything. They both knew she was right. He _knew_ she was right, even if he hated it. Even if he wanted to deny it. He knew. In his heart, in his soul, he knew that killing wasn’t right. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stopped. 

But she could see him… _falling_ back into whatever place he used to be in. Whatever it was that had made him kill, she could see it hovering over him, whispering in his ear that this was the right answer. The only answer. 

But she could whisper in his other ear. For as long as he needs her to, until whatever place he was falling back into was nothing more than a memory again. 

Tessa pressed her lips together. He was thinking too much. She could see it on his face. He was just talking himself deeper into the hole. 

Tessa took a deep breath. 

“I had a chance to kill my dad.” 

Damian’s head snapped towards her. 

“When the Joker came to my house, I could have killed him,” she said, holding Damian’s gaze. “See, the Joker had a gun pressed to his head and said he’d blow his brains out if I screamed for help. You were still outside at that point, so I could have just… opened my mouth and screamed and avoided this entire situation.” 

“But you didn’t,” he said, his eyes flicking over her face. 

“But I didn’t,” she said, holding out her hand. Damian took it. She pulled him closer, until her knees bumped against his stomach. “And it wasn’t because I don’t want him dead. I do. After everything he’s done, especially after what he did last night, I want him dead. But I didn’t scream. I didn’t let the Joker kill him because even though he deserves to die for everything that he’s done to me, if I did, I would be no better than him. 

“You’re not letting the Joker live because he deserves it,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re letting him live because killing him would make you another criminal, another killer, and that’s not who you are.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do.” 

“You don’t know what I’ve done–” 

“You’ve killed someone.” Damian flinched. She felt her heart crack. “By the look on your face, I’m going to assume more than one.” 

Damian’s jaw clenched. Her heart rate picked up. She didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know how many lives he’d taken. Didn’t want to know when. Didn’t want to know why. Didn’t want to know how. Didn’t want to know any of it. 

And at the same time, she wanted to know all of it. She wanted all the secrets to end. 

Gently she squeezed his hand. 

He looked up at her. She could see the wall he was trying to put up. Tessa closed her eyes. If he wasn’t ready to tell her, she could be okay with it. She’d hate it, but she could handle it fo– 

“I was a child assassin.” 

Her eyes flew open. She didn’t hear that right. There was no way she heard— 

“My grandfather is the leader of an organization called the League of Assassins,” Damian said, holding her hand just tight enough that she could feel it. “I was raised since birth as his heir, to one day take his place as the Demon’s Head and command all the assassins within the League. I was trained to be a perfect, merciless killer since I could walk.” 

She shook her head. No. No, this was some kind of joke. There couldn’t be a league of assassins. He couldn’t have been trained since he was a _baby_ to kill. No one would do that to a baby. There was no wa– 

“I haven’t just taken a few lives, Tess,” he said softly. “I’ve taken so many that I’ve lost count.” 

She felt hot tears slide down her face. Felt him watching her carefully. Felt something in her chest twist and snap. Felt the burn of anger in her stomach. Felt Damian’s hands as they cupped her face, brushing away the tears. 

She didn’t want it to be true. Didn’t want it to be real. But it was. He wasn’t lying about this. He’d taken lives. A lot of lives. Because he was an assassin. Because he was _raised_ to be one. 

“How did Bruce let this happen?” She couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t wrap her head around him letting Damian go through that. 

“He didn’t know,” Damian said. “Not until I was ten and Mother dropped me off on his doorstep without warning.” 

Ten. He became a killer, an _assassin_ , before he was ten years old. _His mother_ made him into an assassin. “How could your mom do that to you?” 

His own _mother_ made him into a killer. His grandfather too. She knew how bad family could be, how cruel, but this… this was a whole new level. Making your child a killer before they knew what they were doing— she didn’t know how to process that. How it could even be possible. 

“It’s the way things are there.” He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “I didn’t realize it wasn’t normal until I got here.” 

She shook her head. “It’s not right. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.” 

A kid. He’d been a kid. 

Damian huffed a laugh, leaning his forehead against hers. 

She frowned, glaring at him even though he couldn’t see it. “Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny.” 

“I know, it’s just…” Damian took a deep breath. “I was worried you’d hate me when I told you all of this.” 

“It’s not your fault,” she said, pushing away so she could actually glare at her. 

“I know,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I just didn’t know if you’d see it that way too.” 

“I know you, Damian,” she said softly. “What you did, you were forced to do. You didn’t have a choice, not when you were a kid. You killed because you were told to, and because you didn’t know any better. You didn’t have a choice.” She tugged on his hand. “But you do have a choice now.” 

Damian let out a long breath, leaning his forehead against hers. 

“I want him dead.” 

“I do too. But it’s not what’s right.” 

She wanted him dead more than she’d ever admit out loud. Every time she closed her eyes she could still see his pale face, that sickening smile. Could still hear his god-awful laugh echoing in her ears. Could still feel the ghost of that crowbar hitting her skin. The fear that she’d refused to give into sitting in the back of her mind. 

And if he was dead, maybe that fear would disappear. 

But he wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t going to be. Which meant there would always be that chance that all of this would happen again. That she might end up exactly where she was tonight, helpless and tied up and waiting for someone to save her. 

Her hands balled into fists. She forced a deep breath down her throat. 

Damian’s hands fell on top of her own, squeezing gently. “Why are you so much better than me?” 

A huffed laugh slipped out of her lips. Smirking, she said, “Because I wasn’t raised by assassins.” 

A startled laugh slipped out of Damian’s throat. He looked at her, surprise and joy and something else shining in his eyes, and before she could do anything he leaned forward and kissed her. 

She felt herself melt. She’d never quite understood what people meant when they said that— how you could melt when someone kissed you, but right here, as she was sitting in front of Damian as he kissed her softly and so very sweet, she felt every muscle in her body relax, the tension from the entire day coming out in that one kiss. 

“I love you,” Damian said, pulling away. 

She smiled, leaning her forehead against his. She’d never get tired of hearing those words. “I love you too.” 

“Awwww, how cute.” 

Tessa pulled away, looking towards the door where… where everyone was standing. 

Damian tipped his head towards the ceiling and flipped them off. 

She should feel embarrassed. Under any other circumstance she might, but considering she screamed at Damian and then proceeded to kiss him in front of all of them, all she felt was a minor flicker of annoyance and a stupid fondness. 

They all piled into the room, sitting on any available surface. Damian took his spot next to her before anyone could push him out of the way. Cass ended up next to her on the table, with Steph on her other side. Jason took the only chair, kicking his feet up onto one of the countertops. Dick and Tim pushed themselves onto the same countertops, and Babs wheeled herself next to Jason, poking his legs. 

“So,” Jason asked, looking directly at her. “You alright?” 

She smiled at her knees, then looked up and met his eyes. “Define alright.” 

“Not in excruciating amounts of pain mentally, physically, or emotionally.” 

“Then yeah,” she said. “I’m alright.” 

She felt the entire room relax around her. 

“So, the whole knowing who we are thing,” Tim said. “How did you keep us from finding out you knew?” 

Everyone turned and glared at Tim. 

“What?” he said. “It’s a fair question.” 

“It’s okay,” she said. It was actually really nice that that was the question he asked. “It wasn’t really that hard. You were all so confident that you were being secretive that I didn’t have to do much besides not outright admit that I knew. Except with Cass.” 

Their heads snapped towards her, Steph screeching, “You knew?” 

Cass smiled. “Yes.” 

“And you didn’t _say_ anything?” Tim asked. 

“You did not want to tell her, I helped you believe you were doing a good job.” 

Tessa snorted, pressing a hand to her mouth. Everyone looked so… _exasperated_. She’d never seen them like that before. 

When she felt like she wasn’t going to burst out laughing, she asked, “When did you figure it out, Cass?” 

“The morning after Poison Ivy,” she said. “At breakfast.” 

“You’ve known for a month,” Dick said. 

She nodded. 

“Thank you,” Tessa said. “For helping.” 

She wasn’t delusional enough to think that Cass hadn’t helped. It actually made way too much sense that she’d known. And that she had been helping. She probably wouldn’t have been able to keep it from them without her, even if she was good at keeping secrets. 

A knock sounded on the doorframe. Tessa looked towards the door and found Bruce standing there, a smile on his face. 

“Hey B,” Dick said. 

“Hey,” he said, looking around the room. “Am I interrupting?” 

“Nope,” Tim said, swinging his feet. “We’re just talking.” 

“Anything interesting?” 

“Just the usual,” Jason said. “Secret identities, betrayal, friendships— you know, things like that.” 

Bruce pursed his lips, looking at Dick and Babs. “Do I want to know?” 

“No,” they said in unison. 

“Okay then,” he said, then looked at her. She tensed. “Tessa, I know it’s late and this is the last thing you probably want to do, but we need to go over what happened.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

Damian’s jaw clench as he bit out, “Can’t this wait until the morning?” 

“If it has to, yes,” Bruce said. “But for the sake of accuracy, it’d be better to do it now.” 

“Then it’ll wa–” 

“I can do it.” 

Damian looked at her, pursing his lips. She couldn’t help but think about how much he looked like Bruce when he did that. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this right now.” 

She took his hand. “I’m sure.” 

Bruce nodded. “Do you want all of them here, some of them here, or none of them here?” 

Tessa sat up straight, looking at the others. The corners of her lips twitched up. “They’ll find out one way or another, so they might as well stay.” 

Tim snorted. 

“Alright,” Bruce said. “Whenever you’re ready, walk me through what happened.” 

Tessa took a single, long deep breath. And then she did. 

\---------------------------------------------- 

Damian heard a buzzing in his ears. It was all he’d heard the entire time Tessa had talked, from the moment she’d explained that her father had been working with the Joker. It’d taken a physical effort to not get up and go to her house right then and there to remind him of the promise he’d made the first time he’d found out her father was hurting her. 

If Tessa hadn’t been holding his hand, he probably would have. But the slightly too-tight grip, the way she fiddled with his fingers as she told them what happened… she needed him. 

So, he sat there, nearly choking on his anger. 

Especially when she had started crying. When she’d told them what her dad had said to her – but not all of it. He had seen the way she changed course in the middle of that part. But he didn’t push, and neither did anyone else. Not when she was already sobbing at the things she did say. 

Now they were just sitting there, silence wrapping around the room. She’d finished a minute ago and none of them had said anything. He didn’t know where to start. What to say. How to make it better. By the looks on everyone else’s faces, they didn’t either. 

But Father did. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder and saying softly, “He’s never going to hurt you again, Tessa. I promise.” 

They all knew he wasn’t talking about the Joker. That what had hurt her most wasn’t the things the Joker did to her but the words her father said. 

A choked sob tore out of her throat. Damian felt his heart twist. She looked up at Father and whispered, “I don’t want to go back there.” 

He felt his heart break at those words, at the brokenness to them. He tightened his grip on her hand. 

“You don’t have to,” Father said. “You can stay here, for as long as you like, and if you decide that you want to live with someone else, we’ll work together to figure it out.” 

Tessa wiped at her eyes with her free hand. “I can stay?” 

She sounded so small. So unlike herself. Even when he’d first met her, she’d been quieter, more reserved, but never… never _broken_. That’s what she sounded like now. And it was breaking him. 

“For however long you want,” Father said. “We can talk about it more in the morning, but for now, all of you need to go to bed.” 

“I think there’s something else we all want to do,” Jason said, his hands twitching towards where his guns normally hung. 

Damian clenched his jaw. He agreed with Jason. Very much so. 

“Go to bed,” Father repeated. “If I catch any of you trying to sneak out, you’re benched and grounded for a month.” 

“Sorry, B, but the only one who lives here anymore is Damian, so you don’t get to tell us what to do,” Jason snapped. 

He heard Tessa huff next to him. 

“You really want to try that?” Father asked. “Or do you want to do what you’re told and let me handle this?” 

Damian flicked his eyes to Father. To the clenched jaw, the hard look in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. He was pissed. And he wasn’t going to let her father walk away unharmed. 

Jason pressed his lips together. “Fine. But if he’s not properly punished, we are going to go make sure he is.” 

“Fair enough, now go rest up,” Father said, then looked directly at Damian. “For tonight, I’ll allow the two of you to sleep in the same room, but there better not be any inappropriate behavior.” 

Damian felt his face heat up as everyone in the room stifled laughter. Tessa buried her face in his shoulder. Looking at the ceiling, he said, “Really, Father?” 

“Yes, really. Would you like me to go further than that?” 

Jason and Tim lost it. Damian glared at them as they doubled over from laughing so hard. He felt his face turn hot. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Father said, smiling. Damian snarled at him. Of course he was enjoying this. “Off to bed.” 

Still laughing, his siblings filed out of the room. Damian watched them go, his glare softening. The fact that they were laughing even after everything had happened was a good thing. Even if it was at his expense. 

When they were all out of the room, Damian gently nudged Tessa. “Hey, can you stay here for a moment? I want to talk to Father for a second.” 

“Yeah,” she said, sitting up. “As long as he never says anything like that ever again.” 

Damian huffed a laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Unfortunately, I can’t promise that.” 

She crinkled her nose. “Eh, it was worth a shot.” 

Shaking his head, Damian stood up and walked over to Father. He was standing outside the Batmobile, checking his belt. He looked up as Damian drew closer, leaning against the side of the car as he looked him up and down. 

Damian stopped in front of him, crossing his arms. “You’re not going over there to just arrest him, correct?” 

Father met his eyes. “No.” 

“Good.” The bastard deserved more than jail. “Break his nose again for me. Maybe a few fingers too.” 

Father grabbed the edges of his cowl, pulling them over his head. “I will.” 

He slid into the Batmobile and shot out of the cave before the echo of the ignition had fully disappeared from the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I say anything else, let me say how much I've missed this and you guys. Like seriously. I have the biggest smile on my face right now because I'm finally posting again.
> 
> To all of you asking if I'm okay, I am 100% okay. Thank you so much for asking, but the second half of winter term has been kicking my ass and I couldn't find time to write between school and work, but it's dead week (which is the week before finals) which means that I actually have a bit of time and I'll have time after next tuesday for the most part, so hopefully I'll be able to get back into the swing of things and finish up this story.
> 
> Thank you to Mystik_Owl for being an amazing beta. Thank you to 19lilacdemetrius97 for reminding me of what I wrote in that very first chapter. And thank you to all of you for putting up with me and waiting so long for this chapter.
> 
> As always, feel free to talk to me in the comments or message me on [tumblr.](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/) I love all of you guys so much <3


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa has a nightmare

_Nothing._

Too tight. Everything was too tight. She felt like she was suffocating, the world around wrapping around her in a smothering embrace. 

_You are nothing._

Her dad stood before her, his face twisted into the Joker’s smile. She tried to move, to scream, but whatever was suffocating her was also holding her in place and all she could do was stare and stare and stare as her father loomed over her repeating those same three words that had shattered her. 

A sob tore out of her throat. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t _real_. She wasn’t back here, _couldn’t_ be back here. 

Something slammed into her cheek and another sob tried to rip out of her, but there wasn’t air. God, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but sit there against the wall with the world closing around her and her dad standing above her. 

She tried to take a shaking breath, tried to move, tried to scream, but all she could do was stare. 

_Tessa._

_Nothing. You are nothing._

She shook her head. Not real. This wasn’t real. This had already happened. 

Damian said she didn’t have to go back. _Bruce_ said she didn’t. She shouldn’t be back here, shouldn’t have to sit here, but she couldn’t _move_ , couldn’t _escape_ , couldn’t do _anything_. 

_You are NOTHING._

No no no no _no_. This wasn’t real, she wasn’t here, this wasn’t happening wasn’t— 

_Tessa!_

She didn’t want to be Tessa. Didn’t want to be anything. Wanted to be nothing, the nothing that her dad was still screaming at her that she was. Wanted to disappear into the void and never come out again. 

_Wake up._

Her eyes flew open and she wasn’t in her house but in Damian’s room. 

Only, the feeling of suffocation was still there, wrapped around her chest and around her back. A scream built in her throat, but the sound that came out was a sob. A stupid, pathetic sob that she hated with everything inside of her. 

She pushed against the force, trying to worm her way out of whatever was keeping her in place, but it only tightened. She sucked in a shaking breath, tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t get out. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything. Just like in her dream. 

Had she even woken up? Was this just another part of it? Was her dad going to walk through the door, the Joker behind him? Were the voices going to start again? 

She shook her head, struggling harder. She had to get out. Had to breath fresh air, had to be able to move— 

She nearly tumbled off the bed. She didn’t care. She could move. 

Stumbling over her feet, Tessa crashed into the window, shoving it open and gulping in large breaths of cold air. 

Her legs gave out. She slid to the floor, leaning her head against the windowsill and letting the air cool the top of her head. 

“Tessa–” 

She screamed, pushing away from the hand that touched her shoulder. Distantly she felt her hand slam into the wall and her leg scrape against the floor, but all she could see was the dark figure standing in front of her that was still getting closer and closer an— 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s just me, Tess, it’s just me. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

She blinked, and suddenly it was Damian crouching in front of her, his hand half outstretched towards her. 

“Dami?” 

“Yeah, Tess, it’s me, it’s just me,” he said, that hand still halfway between them. 

A sob fell out of her lips and she crawled towards him, crashing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, rocking backwards so he was leaning against the wall with her head buried in his shoulder. 

“Shh, I’m here now, whatever it is can’t hurt you anymore.” 

She just sobbed harder, balling her hands in his shirt. 

Tessa didn’t know how long they stayed there, her crying while he murmured softly into her hair. All she was aware of was each sob that rattled out of her chest, again and again until there was no energy left in her body, only silent tears running down her face. 

She felt hollow. Numb. Like everything was covered in static. 

She wished she could say it was a new feeling. It wasn’t. It was just one that she thought she was done with feeling now that this was finally over. 

But it wasn’t over. Her dad was going to jail, the Joker was back in Arkham, yet the things they’d done… they were all still in her head. Haunting her. Torturing her. She couldn’t escape that. 

She _knew_ that. Had always known that her brain was her worst enemy. She just thought that maybe, for one night, just tonight, she could get a break. 

Damian pressed a kiss on her head. She closed her eyes, her eyebrows pulling together as she breathed him in. 

“You want to talk about it?” 

She sucked in a long breath. Did she want to talk about? Yes. She did. But did she want to talk about it _now_ , when her body still felt shaky and everything felt off? Not really. Should she? Probably. 

“Was it about your dad?” 

She huffed out a laugh, the barest hint of a smile twitching across her lips. Voice rough, she mumbled, “You didn’t let me answer the first question.” 

“Were you going to?” 

“…Maybe.” 

She felt Damian’s smile against her head. “So, do you want to talk, do you want to go back to sleep, or do you want a distraction?” 

She frowned, shifting her head against his shoulder. “Not sleeping.” 

She wasn’t sure she would be able to. Not with the dream still flashing through her brain in fractured images. She didn’t want to go back there, didn’t want to chance it. It was debatable if she’d even be able to go back to sleep for the rest of the night. 

“Okay, so talking, or a distraction?” 

She bit her lip. It didn’t matter. Sooner or later, she was going to have to tell him. He might let it slide for tonight, but eventually, he was going to ask again. And she needed to talk about it. To someone. 

“Talking.” 

Damian let out a long breath. “Do you want to talk, or do you want me to ask questions?” 

“Questions.” 

“Was the dream about your dad?” 

_You are nothing_. “Yes.” 

“Was the Joker there too?” 

Her dad standing above her, Joker’s too-big smile stretched across her face, flashed before her eyes. “Sort of. They were almost… one person. Or my dad had some of Joker’s traits.” 

“Alright.” He shifted his grip on her, pulling her just a little bit closer. “Were you at your house?” 

“For most of it.” She could still feel the wood beneath her hands, the grate of it as her nails dug in. 

“Does this have anything to do with what you left out when you were telling everyone what happened?” 

A huffed laugh escaped her lips. “Of course you noticed that.” 

“Well, I am the son of the world’s greatest detective.” 

“I thought Tim was your brother?” 

Damian smacked her arm lightly, a laugh on his lips. 

A full smile spread across her lips. Something in her chest settled with it, the numbness starting to recede. She shifted against Damian, the tenseness that she didn’t even realize she had disappearing as she melted into his chest. 

Sniffling slightly, she said, “I didn’t tell you everything because I didn’t want to say it out loud and make everything more… real.” 

“You don’t have to tell me.” 

“I want to,” she said, and felt the truth of her words resonate in her chest. “It’s just… he said all the fears I refused to acknowledge, and I guess I’m still trying to face them.” 

Damian dragged in a deep breath, resting his chin on top of her head. “Well, luckily, you don’t have to face them alone.” 

Her chest swelled, her throat tightening as tears began streaming down her face again. Not because she was sad— no, because he was _right_. And even though she knew that, hearing it after everything made her so happy that she didn’t have the words. 

When her throat no longer felt tight, she said, “He broke me. I know I said that already, but… I know what he said was wrong…” 

“Just because he’s wrong, doesn’t mean the thing he said won’t hurt.” 

She swallowed hard. Took in a shaking breath. “What I didn’t tell you were all the things he said about us.” 

She felt Damian tense. 

“He told me how I was worthless, and boring, and unimportant.” She fiddled with her fingers. “He was very big on telling me I was nothing. That’s what I heard most in the dream.” 

What she was hearing now. The echoing reflections of his words bouncing around inside her head. Over and over again, his voice saying those three words that had been the centerpiece of her dream. Nightmare. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her mind to shut up. Willing his voice to fade from her memory. 

When it finally had, she took a deep breath. “I… When we first started dating, I was so scared that you were going to realize those things. I know now that I’m not, but those insecurities… it’s not gone, no matter how much I wish they were. Sometimes I wake up and think it was all a dream, because how could someone like _you_ , love someone like _me_.” 

Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard. “So he told me that. He said I was some pet-project of a rich kid, and eventually, you’d get bored or realize I couldn’t be fixed and leave.” 

Damian had stopped breathing. 

She wasn’t sure she was breathing herself. Saying all of this out loud– she never thought she would. Or, she did, but she thought it’d be… later. After she had dealt with it. When she could say it and know with one hundred percent certainty that she no longer believed it. 

Slowly Damian sat up. She felt her heart rate pick up, a thrum of nerves shooting through her body. Was something wrong? Had she said something wrong? Had she _been_ wrong? 

No, that was insane. Her dad wasn’t right. Damian didn’t believe anything she’d just said. He couldn’t. There was no— 

He cupped her face, tilting it up slightly so he could look her directly in the eye. 

She stared right back, unable to stop her brows from pulling together as she flicked her eye over his face. She wished he wasn’t so unreadable. That she was calmer so she actually _could_ read him. But her heart was beating too fast and all she could see in the moonlight was the hardness in his eyes and the slight purse of his lips. 

“I love you.” 

The breath rushed out of her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to hear those words. 

“Tessa, I will always love you,” he said, not breaking eye contact. “There is nothing that can change that.” 

“Why?” she breathed. “Why me?” 

Damian smiled, running a thumb over her lip. “Because you bite your lip when you’re concentrating.” He touched her nose. “And you scrunch up your nose when I annoy you.” He twirled a piece of her hair. “And you play with your hair when you’re nervous. 

“I love you,” he said, “because you argue with anyone you think is wrong. Because you’ve seen some of the worst the world has to offer but you still want to help people. Because you’re one of the most competitive people I know that you’ll sprain your ankle to prove a point.” 

She huffed a laugh, a tear sliding down her face. Damian brushed it away. “You are one of the smartest, kindest, bravest people I know. I think the real question is how could I not love you?” 

She couldn’t help it— she leaned forward, something between a sob and a laugh coming out of her chest, and kissed him. 

It was sloppy, and sweet, and she was pretty sure she was crying. No, she was definitely crying. Damian pulled away, then leaned in again and kissed her tears away. She felt her heart melt. 

“I love you,” she breathed, tilting her head so their foreheads pressed against each others. 

“I know.” 

She pushed away, staring at him. “You didn’t.” 

A smirk played across his lips. “Didn’t what?” 

“You did,” she said, a laugh slipping out. “You just quoted Star Wars at me.” 

“So what if I did?” 

“I’m telling Dick.” She pushed herself to her feet, still laughing. “He’s going to di—” 

Her words turned into a shriek as Damian wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back towards him. “You’re not telling him anything.” 

“You wanna bet?” she asked, looking over her shoulder with a smile. And then she stepped on his foot, twisting and pushing his chest at the same time. 

Damian hissed and took a step back, more surprised than hurt, but it didn’t matter. She was free. 

She made a dash for the door, but before she could grab the handle Damian grabbed her hand and spun her— and then her back was pressed to the door, one hand pinned above her head while the other was on Damian’s chest to balance herself. 

She grinned up at him, tilting her head so her lips hovered just in front of his. “What you gonna do, Wayne?” 

Damian tensed, glaring down at her. “I don’t know, are you going to tattle on me to Dick?” 

“I don’t know, depends on what you do next.” 

His eyes flicked over her face. “So if I let you go…?” 

“I’ll run to Dick.” She brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth. 

He swallowed hard. “And if I do this?” 

He leaned down and kissed her, slow and thorough, that kiss he did where it felt like they had all the time in the world. Like they were the only ones in it, and everyone else no longer existed. 

Damian pulled away, and she dropped her chin to her chest, smiling. 

She flicked her eyes up to his. “Well, I might just have to stay here then.” 

Damian stared at her, long and hard, and then kissed her again. 

She pushed onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back. 

\-------------------------------------------------- 

Damian woke up with his arms still wrapped around Tessa, holding her close to his chest. He blinked his eyes open slowly, letting them adjust to the bright light streaming through the window. Guess they forgot to close the blinds after Tessa’s nightmare. 

He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them fully. Tessa’s hair had mostly come out of the braid she’d put it in, from sleep and their… other activities. He felt his face warm slightly, even as his chest swelled. 

He took a moment to just look at her. The way the light splashed across her face. The softness to it that only sleep could bring. The way she hugged a pillow to her chest, her chin buried into it. He wanted to draw her. To capture the moment. But before he could attempt to sneak out of bed she sucked in a long breath, her eyes fluttering slightly as she twisted. 

Smiling, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. A smile twitched across her face, and then her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and half awake and still the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. 

“Morning,” he said, smiling down at her. 

“Morning,” she mimicked, lifting her hands above her head and nearly smacking him in the face as she stretched. 

He huffed a laugh, swatting at her hand. “Hey, watch it with those.” 

“No way,” she yawned, rolling over and hugging the pillow again. “Those are my greatest weapons.” 

“Are they now?” 

“Mhmm,” she mumbled. “I could kill a man with them.” 

He shook his head. “Come on, killer. Let’s go get some breakfast.” 

“I would,” she said, “but I think moving is going to make all those bumps and bruises I got yesterday hurt.” 

“I’ll carry you.” 

“Will you now?” 

“Yup,” he said, sliding out of bed and walking around to her side. “With, of course, your permission.” 

“Permission granted.” 

Damian pressed his lips together to smother a laugh, then leaned down and scooped her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes, looking for all the world like she was going to go back to sleep. 

“Comfortable.” 

“Very.” 

He rolled his eyes, even with the smile stretching across his face, and then walked out of the room and down to the kitchen. 

It was a whirlwind inside. Everyone was already there, an assortment of different breakfast foods spread across the table and nearly a dozen mugs, along with three laptops, a tablet, and Alfred the Cat, who was sitting next to Father’s plate and getting his head rubbed. 

“Aww, look how cute you guys are,” Dick said, pinching Damian’s cheek as he walked past. “I could just eat you.” 

“Fuck off,” Tessa mumbled, making Damian snort. 

“Do you want these pictures or…?” Steph asked, waving her phone. 

“You just took pictures of us?” Damian asked, glaring at her. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I know Tessa will appreciate them. Once she’s, you know, awake.” 

“I’m awake.” 

“Sure you are.” 

Tessa glared, but in the wrong direction. Rolling his eyes, Damian set her down in one of the empty chairs and asked, “What do you want to eat?” 

“Sugary cereal.” She paused. “And mint tea.” 

Damian stared at her. “You do mean separate, right?” 

“I’m not that out of it,” she said, glaring at him. 

“Just checking.” 

Damian walked deeper into the kitchen, pulling down Lucky Charms and a bag of mint tea, then sliding two pieces of bread into the toaster for himself. 

“So, just to make sure everyone knows,” Tim said, raising his voice. Everyone quieted down, turning their eyes to him. “Tessa’s dad was arrested last night, courtesy of Batman dropping him off at the station with the folder containing everything we’d found and the events of last night tapped to his chest. It should put him away for the rest of his life.” 

“Still think I should have shot him,” Jason mumbled. 

“Yes, we know,” Cass said, pushing her fingers into her temple. No doubt she’d been hearing that all morning. 

“This is his mugshot, if anyone cares.” 

Damian looked over. The man had a black eye that had his eye swollen shut, a nasty bruise that took up most of the left side of his jaw, a cut on his temple that left a trail of blood down his face, and the broken nose Tessa had given him. There also looked to be a sling, but what it was for couldn’t be seen in the picture. 

He glanced at Tessa. She was studying the picture, a blank look on her face. There wasn’t any sympathy, but there was… shock. Like she was trying to process that her dad was actually arrested. 

Tim flipped the tablet back towards him. “Second thing is the Joker’s all locked up in Arkham again with extra security, and everyone else in the looney bin is accounted for.” 

“Hurrah,” Steph deadpanned. 

“Third is that the media is going crazy again.” 

Babs rolled her eyes. “Is that something new?” 

“No, but it’s about Tessa and Robin. Somehow they caught pictures of them swinging out of the building, and then once they were on the ground again, as well as him putting her into the Batmobile which… doesn’t really mean anything good.” 

Damian frowned. “What does it mean?” 

“Well, it looks like we know her and she knows us— which is true, but we don’t want anyone t

o think that. It puts a target on her.” 

“I can deal with a target,” Tessa said, smiling up at him as he set her cereal and tea in front of her, then slid into the seat next to her with his toast. 

“I know, but we’d all prefer if you didn’t have to,” Dick said, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

Tim sighed. “I’ve been faking hospital records for her, but it’s going to take me another hour to make sure they look real and line up with everything, as well as fake the discharge papers that say Alfred came and picked her up. It should keep the media from reporting that she knows us, but it won’t stop the rumors that they’ve been saying all morning.” 

Damian clenched his jaw. The whole reason the Joker had even come after Tessa was because he thought she was a connection to him. If the media fed into that… he shook his head. “We have to shut it down.” 

“We can’t control what the media says. Or anyone else, for that matter.” 

“Well we have to be able to d—” 

“I want to see my dad.” Every head in the room turned towards Tessa. 

Damian wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. If everyone else didn’t have the same shock written over their faces, he would have said he’d misheard her. But they did. Which meant that Tessa said she wanted to see her dad. 

“I don’t think that’s wise,” he said. 

“Why not,” she said, looking at him. 

“Because—” 

“Why do you want to see him?” Dick cut in, giving Damian a look. 

He gave him a look right back, one that clearly said _what the hell?_

“I just… I think I need to see him one more time,” she said, frowning down at the table. “I can’t really explain it. I think I just need to prove to myself that he’s actually in jail.” 

“With the media—” Tim started. 

“Go,” Cass said. “If you think it’ll help, go.” 

“I’m with Damian,” Jason said. “That bastard doesn’t deserve to see you again.” 

“I’m not going for him, I’m going for me,” Tessa said, looking at Jason. 

“If you want to go, I’ll set it up,” Bruce said, standing up. 

“I do.” 

“Then give me an hour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* can we pretend it's saturday? and maybe that it hasn't been over two weeks?
> 
> Hello my lovelies, I'm back. I know I keep taking ridiculously long breaks, but I figured it out why! It's because I don't want this story to end, and that, I'm afraid, is probably going to be next chapter. SO I've been a mess about that and other reasons that I'm not going to get into right now, but yeah. Proabably one more chapter. Crazy, right?
> 
> Thank you to Mystik_Owl for being an amazing beta and making me smile this morning when I was touching up the edits she sent me. Luv ya <3
> 
> And, as always, feel free to comment or message me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/). It really does mean the world to me when you guys comment, so to everyone who has commented thank you for everything, and to all of those who haven't but are consistently reading this story, I love you guys too <3


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter

“Are you sure about this?” 

Tessa turned and looked at Damian, forcing a smile onto her face. “Yeah,” she said. She looked back at the door that led to the holding cells at the GCPD. Her dad was behind those doors. She straightened her shoulders. “I need to do this.” 

She could feel him watching her. Judging her. Trying to figure out what was going through her head. Though, he probably knew. She had no doubt that he understood why she had to do this, what it meant to her. He just didn’t want her to do it because they both knew she would most likely walk out more hurt than when she’d walked in. 

“I need to do this,” she repeated. She wasn’t sure if she said it for herself or for him. 

Damian sighed and pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be right out here if you need me. Just scream if you need anything.” 

She laughed into his shoulder. “Thanks, Dami.” 

She pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself. Her heart started beating faster in her chest, the _thump-thump_ of it a felt beat. She swallowed hard, then turned and faced the door. 

“Ready?” Commissioner Gordon asked, a kind smile on his face. It was weird, looking at Barbara’s dad. Not because he was her dad, but because he didn’t know. About them. Or at least they thought he didn’t. But considering they thought she didn’t either, Tessa wasn’t quite sure if she believed them or not. 

But that was a conversation for a different time. Right now she had to go talk to her dad and say… something. Whatever it was that had driven her down here, even if she didn’t know what it was yet. 

She let out a long breath. “Yeah.” 

“Alright,” he said, unlocking the door. “I can give you a half hour. If you need more than that we’ll have to schedule another time.” 

“That should be enough.” Her stomach felt flip-floppy. 

Maybe she hadn’t thought this through. Being in the same room as her dad again… she wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch him or throw up. Maybe both. Probably both. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. 

She took a deep breath. And then she walked in. 

Her dad sat in the cell all the way at the end of the hall, back straight and chin up. If it hadn’t been for the ripped suit and the injuries over his entire body, she would have thought he was at his office about to meet someone important. 

She felt her heartbeat in her stomach as she walked closer to him. He was in bad shape. A part of her—the small, stupid, pointless part of her—felt a twinge of guilt at the bruises and what looked like a broken arm. The rest of her felt a sweet sense of satisfaction knowing that he was experiencing a fraction of the pain he had made her feel. 

He turned his head. A grunt left his mouth at the sight of her. “So, the Bat wasn’t lying when he said you lived. Pity.” 

Her heart twisted. Of course he’d say that. She knew he was going to say something like that. Yet it still hurt. And she knew she couldn’t control how she felt, couldn’t control if his words hurt or not, but… but god _damn_ it. She didn’t want him to be able to hurt her anymore. 

That was the whole point. He was here, in jail, waiting for his trial where there was more than enough evidence to send him to jail for the rest of his life. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. He wouldn’t be able to. Except when she was stupid enough to come here. Because she thought that she needed to see him one last time. 

She didn’t even know _why_ she thought that. It wasn’t even really a thought. It was a feeling. She felt like she had to see him one more time—to prove to herself this was real, to say something, to hurt him some more—she didn’t know. All she knew was that when Tim had shown her that picture of his mugshot, she’d wanted to come here. 

“So, Tessie.” She flinched at the nickname. At the smile that stretched across his face when he said it, because he _knew_. He stood up and walked over to the bars, disgust and hatred twisting his face. “Why are you here? Because I sure as hell didn’t ask you to be.” 

She expected fear to crash into her at their closeness, at the look on his face that was the same as it always was when he was going to hurt her. She expected to stumble back into the wall behind her, away from him, away from his fists and his words. She expected to lose any sense of calm that she had. 

But she didn’t. 

She still felt the fear, the stumbling beat of her heart and the tightness in her throat, but it didn’t consume her. It didn’t make her forget everything else. She could stand there, some metal bars and a foot and a half of space between them, and not feel the need to run for her life. 

She didn’t get it. It’d been a day, if that, since everything had happened. She could still feel each blow on her skin, could still hear the phantom whisper of his words in her ear. Hell, she’d woken up _screaming_ last night because of him. 

Yet the fear she felt now, as she stared at the man before her, was nothing compared to the terror she usually felt. 

“Have you come for an explanation?” he spat, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “Come to ask your dear old dad one more time why he did it? To give me the benefit of the doubt? To make sure that I wasn’t lying when I said all those horrible things? I can tell you right now you’re going to be disappointed if you did.” 

No. No, that wasn’t why she was here. She knew he hadn’t been lying. Knew that he’d helped the Joker willingly. It made sense. With everything she knew about him, and everything he’d done, and everything he’d said, it made sense. 

And she didn’t want an explanation. Didn’t need it. Whatever reasons he had, if they were the same or different from what he’d said before, she didn’t need it. She was done with trying to prove he was something he wasn’t. Done making excuses. He didn’t deserve them. 

“What, are you not going to say anything?” he sneered. “You haven’t come all this way to just stand there, have you?” 

Maybe she had. She didn’t have anything to say to him. It’d all been said. There was nothing that she wanted to say. Even if there was, it wouldn’t change anything. She could scream, or cry, or rage, and it wouldn’t change how he felt or what he’d done. If anything, it’d just make her feel worse. 

So why was she here? To prove that he was actually here? That he couldn’t hurt her anymore? 

She knew that. As soon as Bruce had said he’d handle it, she’d known that. She didn’t need to be here to prove it. 

So then why? Why had she felt the need to come here and see him? 

“Come on, Tessie,” he said, grabbing the bars and glaring at her. “Use that new spine of yours and tell me what you’re thinking.” 

No. He didn’t get to know what she was thinking anymore. He didn’t get to know about her, or her life, or anything else. He’d lost that privilege. He’d lost it a long time ago, the first time he’d laid a hand on her, but now– now was when she got to take it away. Now was when she could wash her hands of him. 

Her eyes widened. 

That’s why she was here. Not to do anything with him. But to prove to herself that she was done with him. 

She’d needed to come here, to look at him, to hear him say all his bullshit, and feel in her heart and soul that she was done with him. Before yesterday, or two days ago, or however long everything had been, she hadn’t been done. She’d still thought of the maybes and what ifs. Still had hope. 

But it was gone. She could stare at him, look him straight in the eye, and tell herself without even a sliver of doubt that she done. 

A small smile curved over her lips. With it, a weight lifted off her chest. 

“What the hell are you smiling about?” he spat. 

She looked at him. At her dad, who only had that title because of birth and blood. 

She looked at him, and then she turned and started walking towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” he snarled, shaking the bars of his cell. “Don’t you dare just walk away from me. We’re not done here yet!” 

She didn’t look back. Because they were. She was done. Forever. 

“When I get ou–” 

She closed the door, cutting off whatever threat he was about to say. Cutting off him. 

Damian stood up, walking over to her and scanning her face. “Are you okay?” 

She smiled up at him. “Yeah,” she said, letting out a long breath. “I think I finally am.” 

\----------------------------------- 

Tessa knocked on the door to Bruce’s office, half hoping that he wasn’t in there, but a muffled _come in_ sounded barely a second later, so she took a deep breath and pushed the door open. 

The room was a weird mix of modern and gothic, with dark wooden bookshelves and a carpet that looked as old as this house, but clean, silver tech was all over the room, from the computer on the desk to the giant monitor against one wall. 

Bruce was sitting at his desk, scanning something on the tablet he had set up next to the computer. She forced a smile and said, “Dick said you wanted to talk to me?” 

“Yes,” he said, flipping the tablet closed and setting it off to the side. “Please take a seat.” 

Butterflies exploded in her stomach. She knew Bruce was formal. The others had been telling her that he was a robot since she met them. It didn’t help the anxiety when she told herself that, especially when he reached into his desk and pulled out two pieces of paper. 

Swallowing hard, Tessa moved over to the desk and took a seat across from him. 

“Do you know what these are?” he asked, nodding towards the papers. 

She looked at them. Small, barely legible font scrawled across both of them. They looked like legal documents. For what, she had no idea. Not unless she read them, but even then, it’d be fifty-fifty if she actually understood what they were saying. 

She leaned back in her chair. “Nope.” 

A smile twitched across his face. “This one,” he said, touching the one on the right, “is the intent to foster paperwork, and this one–” He touched the one on the left. “–is the emancipation paperwork.” 

Her eyes shot up to his. 

“I’ve filled them both out for you, so all you have to do is pick which one to sign and then we can have a judge sign it and make it official,” he said, pulling out a pen and setting it in front of her. “If you want to talk through the options so you understand what they mean, we can. Or if you need some time to think about it, that’s totally okay. Just tell me what you need, Tessa, and we’ll do that.” 

She stared down at the papers. At the pen. She felt her eyes water. “I…” 

She didn’t know what to say. To do. She just… 

Tessa looked up at Bruce. “You were serious?” 

Last night, when he’d said he’d help her figure out what to do now… she hadn’t quite believed him. She knew he meant well, knew he cared about her, but this… she didn’t think he’d actually do it. That he would foster her. That he would set up the emancipation papers. 

“Of course,” Bruce said. Like it was simple. Like there wasn’t another option. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“I– it– I’m not–” 

Bruce leaned forward. “Tessa, you’re not alone anymore. I know you’re not used to that, and I know you probably don’t believe me yet, but _you are not alone_. I’m not going to let you be. Even if you decide to go with emancipation, I will help you find and pay for a place, and then help you with whatever else you need from there. You are not going through this life alone anymore.” 

She didn’t realize she was crying until Bruce pulled out a tissue and held it out for her. She took it with a laugh, wiping away her tears. 

She didn’t know how she got here. How she ended up sitting across from Bruce Wayne, who was helping her figure out the rest of her life. How she ended up dating Damian Wayne and falling in love with him. How she ended up with a family, one that actually cared about her. 

She looked at the papers. Two options. Two paths. 

Become Bruce’s foster kid for the next two years until she graduates high school and have someone taking care of her, or be emancipated and finally be in control of her own life. Her heart twisted. 

She looked up at Bruce. “I think…” she said. Took a deep breath. “I think I want to be emancipated. I think I need to be in control of my own life.” 

“Okay,” Bruce said. “Do you–” 

“But,” she said, smiling at the little smile that twitched across Bruce’s face. “But, maybe I could stay here and you could look after me every once in a while and ground me when I royally screw up?” 

The smile on Bruce’s face widened. “I think I could do that.” 

She bit her lip. “Are you sure?” 

She knew she shouldn’t feel this way, but she kept waiting for someone to walk in and say this was all a joke. That this was a dream, and she’d wake up in her bed and none of this had happened at all. 

But Bruce just smiled at her and said, “I’m sure. If this is what you want to do, then we’ll do it.” 

“It is,” she said. 

“Alright,” he said. “Then we’ll get you emancipated and set up here, and I’ll parent you on special occasions when it’s necessary.” 

She smiled down at her lap. This didn’t feel real. She knew it was, but… she looked up at Bruce. He was watching her, waiting. Patient. So unlike her own dad. He was the opposite of everything she’d known. They all were. 

She sniffled. “Can I hug you?” 

Bruce huffed out a laugh, then stood up. “Of course you can.” 

She walked around the desk and hugged him, burying her face in his chest. She hadn’t realized how tall Bruce was. Taller than Damian. Maybe taller than Dick. She felt tiny, but she didn’t feel unsafe, not like with her dad. With Bruce, she just felt safe. 

“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.” 

“You’re welcome, Tessa.” He pulled away, reaching towards the desk and picking up the pen. He held it out for her. “Now go ahead and sign those papers.” 

Smiling, she took the pen and signed her name. 

\------------------------------------------------- 

“Emancipation, huh?” Jason said, leaning back in one of the many chairs in the Cave. “Good for you. Adults are overrated.” 

“You’re an adult,” Steph said, poking his shoulder from where she sat on a table. 

Jason mock gasped. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing.” 

Steph rolled her eyes and shoved his arm. The chair he was sitting in rolled a few feet away from her. 

“Yeah, but I’m going to stay here,” she said, looking at Damian. She’d already told him all of this, and the smile that had spread over his face had made her start crying. There had just been so many emotions swarming through her that it all came out in that moment, between laughing and crying and hugging Damian. 

Steph and Cass looked at each other, wicked smiles spreading across their faces before looking at her. 

Tessa frowned, looking between the two of them. That was never a good look. “What?” 

“You’re going to have your own room, right?” Steph asked. 

“Yeah?” 

“Sweet!” Steph screeched, turning to look back at Cass. “Do you think Bruce will just give us his credit card? Or do you think he’s going to insist on coming? Because there’s this _beautiful_ pair of boots that I’ve been wanting rece–” 

“Come,” Cass cut in. “For rooms, he always comes.” 

Steph screwed up her face. “Think he’ll buy them for me anyway?” 

“Steph, the point is to set up Tessa’s room, not get stuff for yourself,” Dick said, shaking his head and smiling. 

“I know that, Dickie, but Tessa wants me to have these shoes, right?” 

They both looked at her. She stared back. “Honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Since you’re going to be living here,” Tim said, rolling his eyes, “you’re going to have your own room, and Bruce has everyone go as a family to help pick out the stuff and then set up your room exactly how you want. It’s like the official indoctrination into the Wayne family. And Steph wants to use it to get a pair of shoes.” 

“A very pretty pair of shoes.” 

“Sorry, my bad, a _very pretty_ pair of shoes,” Tim said, giving Steph the what-the-fuck look. 

Tessa laughed, leaning into Damian. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

Her room. Part of her wanted to go back to her house and grab all of her stuff and just set it up here again, but going back… she couldn’t step foot in there. Not yet at least. Besides, most of that stuff was replaceable. And the things that weren’t, she’d just ask Damian and Jason to go grab for her. Or maybe Dick. Damian and Jason might wreck the place while they’re there. 

“So got any ideas?” 

She turned her head towards Barbara. “What?” 

“For your room.” 

“Oh,” she said, smiling at her lap. “Not really. All I really know I want is a lot of bookshelves for all my books.” 

“Are your books still at your house?” Jason asked. 

“Yeah.” 

He looked at Dick. “We’ll drive by and grab them later today. Want anything else while we’re there?” 

She bit back a smile. Apparently, she didn’t even have to ask them. “Uh, there’s this purple box with white flowers all over it on the floor in my closet. Can you grab that?” 

“Yup. Do you want your clothes too?” 

“Oh yeah. Yes.” 

“Damian, you’re coming too,” Dick said, tilting his head. “We’ll need more hands.” 

“Sure.” 

It was all so easy. Planning all this. Figuring things out. She didn’t get how they just decided things sometimes, like it was nothing more than breathing. For so long things had just been hard, and she never knew if she was doing the right thing, even with the small stuff, but here… they just accepted it. Her staying here. Going to get her stuff. Shopping for her room. There weren’t any questions, it just… was. 

“So,” Jason said, grinning at her. “We’ve got emancipation, dad going to jail, going shopping with Bruce– got any other major life changes you want to make?” 

Her stomach twisted. She pursed her lips, looking down at her lap. “Well…” 

She felt everyone’s head spin towards her, the entire room going silent except for Jason’s barked laugh. 

She looked up at him, wanting to glare but instead chewing on her lip. But he was still grinning. Not judging. Ready to take whatever she said. 

She flicked her eyes to Damian who… looked the same. Ready to roll with whatever she said. Maybe a little worried, but still open to what she was going to say. 

She sat up, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “I…” She swallowed hard. “After everything that’s happened, and everything I’ve learned, and knowing who you guys are, I just… It’s just that… What happened with the Joker is most likely not going to be a one-time thing and–” 

“It wo–” 

“Dami, please,” she cut in, looking at him. “It’s going to happen again, no matter what you or anyone else does or says. I’ve accepted that. I’m _ready_ to deal with that. But when it happens I don’t want to have to wait to be saved again.” 

Damian’s entire body tensed. She didn’t stop looking at him. 

“You want us to train you,” Dick said. 

“No, she wants to become a vigilante,” Tim said, looking at her. “Don’t you?” 

She didn’t look away from Damian. “Honestly, I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want to be defenseless next time.” 

Damian was still staring at her. She still hadn’t looked away. As much as this was a conversation with everyone else, she wanted Damian to be onboard. She wanted him to help her do this. 

But she could see the apprehension on his face. The worry. The fear. Especially when Tim mentioned being a vigilante. For whatever reason, that scared him. And she wasn’t sure if that was enough for him to try and shut this down. 

And if he did… she’d do it anyway. She’d get the others to train her. Maybe even Bruce. Definitely Cass. But she’d do it, even if he didn’t approve. Even if he tried to stop her. She just hoped he wouldn’t. 

She looked at him. Watched him debate with himself. Watched him try to assess her. 

Damian let out a long breath, the tension melting away slightly. “Alright.” 

She perked up. “Alright?” 

“If this is what you need, then we’ll do it,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand. “But it’s going to be a lot of work. It’s not going to be fun, and it’s going to test you in a hundred different ways. You have to be sure.” 

“I am sure.” 

She’d been sure since she’d woken up today. There had been two thoughts on her mind: going to see her dad, and asking them to train her like them. She’d never felt so sure about something in her life than when she’d had the thought this morning. 

“Then alright,” Damian said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll train you like a Bat.” 

“No,” Cass said, and Tessa whipped her head around. “Not a Bat. A Batgirl.” 

Tessa grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> So, just so everyone knows, this story and you guys mean the world to me. As soon as I finished writing this chapter I started crying because as much as I'm so happy to be done, I'm going to miss you guys and this world so much. Your support for this story has meant everything to me, and there aren't enough words in any language to say thank you, but here goes.
> 
> Thank you to Mystik_Owl for becoming my beta halfway through this mess of a story. It's been so much fun working with you and I'm very happy we've become friends.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented, especially those of you who do it consistently, and especially those of you who have been doing it since the beginning. This story started as something for me but became something for you because of it, and it wouldn't have been the same without you.
> 
> Thank you to all the silent readers. I know you're their because of the hit count (which is over 7,000 btw wtf) and the subscribtions (which is over 100 WTF). You guys mean just as much to me as everyone else, so thank you for sticking with me or joining towards the end or at whatever point you found this story. Knowing people are reading mean everything.
> 
> Now, since I got sooooooo many comments asking about a sequel... at some point, I do want to write one. I have no idea when I'll have time, especially since I want to work on some original stuff for a while, but I do want to come back and write with these characters again. I'm not going to promise when, or how long, or if ever, because these are my thoughts now and they might change, but as of this moment I want to write a sequel. There might also be some short stories/filler things that I post every once in a while related to this story, so if you're interested in that subscribe to me or follow me on [tumblr](https://i-am-the-raven-queen.tumblr.com/).
> 
> As always, feel free to talk to me in the comments or on tumblr, anytime. Even if it's months from now. I'm going to miss you guys so much, so feel free to pop in and tell me about your life whenever you want.
> 
> It's been an absolute pleasure,  
> Raven


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